(http://i209.photobucket.com/albums/bb145/syberfang/duh.jpg)<br/><strong>Name: Michael T. Corbin<br/>Current Race: Human<br/>Location: Murphey's Tavern<br/>Time: Day 1, Night<br/>Remaining Funds: $496.50 </strong><br/><br/>Michael looked up at the young waitress, she looked remarkably young to be able to work at a place that served alcohol but he pushed it asnowing that in some small places of the world the common law didn't mean anything to them. He scanned over the menu, asking absently what the specials were. I took another drink of his 3 dollar beer. And this point he didn't care to much about what the food tasted like or how much it costed. Only that he was hungry and if he didn't eat something he might die. He thought to himself as the sound of his belly rumbled. He began to blush from embarrassment, much like the girl standing before him.<br/><br/>As a writer he was honed to catching every detail, so the girls attraction to him was a compliment, however she was to young for him but it always felt nice when someone found him attractive for the way he looked and not his character in his books. It was a good thing that these people either hadn't read his books or taken the time to put two and two together.<br/><br/>He looked up at the small girl after she read him the specials, being as it was his first time here he was uncertain as to what any of it actually tasted like. From the look of the lighted faces around the room they had seemed to enjoy their meals. Whats the worst that could happen, he thought to himself. Well it could always be poison that knocked him unconscious, and when he woke the cute girl in front of him, could be chopping him up into pieces to recycle into food. He suddenly felt himself loosing his appetite. He breathing became labored, the hot air pushing through his nostrils, and back in again. 'Calm down, just because you can see every outcome, doesn't mean it's going to happen" he thought and with a mental slap he put on his best fake smile. The one he practiced to use on interviews photo shoots and so on.<br/><br/>"What do you suggest?" He asked looking up at the teen waitress.