A powdered poodle lady daintily sniffs at the air, pausing in her stride, then crinkles her nose in a distasteful manner. When she turns to look back down the street, stopping the foppish-looking gentlepoodle she is walking with, she lets out a gasp of surprise at what she sees.

Kicking up a cloud of dust and debris, a crowd of smelly Vykarins barks and clicks and pops and howls its way along the street, bouncing along their "passenger", an orange Kiriga. One of them barks out something just as unintelligible as anything else the group of barbarians has to say … and all at once, the Kiriga is dumped unceremoniously on the ground, given a few good-bye slurps … and quickly abandoned as the Vykarins gallop back the way they came. Sudden end to a fairly long journey, to be sure.

The scrawny patch-furred lizard creaks to his feet, brushing a drool-sodden clump of white hair out of his face as he does so. He waves a paw at the retreating Vykarin, the squints at his surroundings curiously, dusting off his robes as he does so. "Whatta dis be? Buildinks, but made offa stone… thissa must be palace." Speculations aside, a more immeadiate concern makes itself known in the form of growling bellyspeak.

A large canine with an overly ample belly smiles and makes a cheery greeting to the Kiriga in some language that can't be made out. He looks like some sort of … waiter? Cook? Something like that. He smells of food and lots of it, anyway. He speaks quickly and confidently in some unknown tongue, and it's impossible to make a thing out about it, except that he at some point gestures to himself and says something about "Potel Choit".

Whatever he's doing, he's standing within the fenced area of the cafe, and it looks like he might be extending some sort of invitation. Or maybe he's just warning the Kiriga to get out of the way of an oncoming Drokar carriage, and being terribly friendly about it. The skinny poodle dressed in black (and with really strange black line makeup) behind the chef (?) seems friendly, too, making exactly the same gestures as the larger canine, but not saying a word.

Tooth glances from side to side for a moment, then points at his chest in a questioning look. After he's sure he's the one being referred to, the old master hobbles forward, his wrinkly face all smiles. "Ohhh… you look kindahly onna poor old man… jou charitable, yes… nice kids… " His snout quivers at the smell of sustainance, making his whiskers wobble around like little fuzzy tendrils.

A Drokar-driven carriage rolls through the spot where Master Tooth was standing just a moment ago, the driver showing no signs of having intended to bother slowing down to avoid a pedestrian. The chef/waiter/fat dog meanwhile keeps gesturing, and says something about, "Parlez vou Gallais?" He then makes several hand gestures, pointing at some other shop down the street and he sounds somewhat disdainful as he says something about "gluante bon march de touristes nourriture" … or some gibberish like that.

"No… I ammah Mastah Tooth… Too-oo-ooth… " The shiga scratches the back of his head, oblivious to the carriage that nearly added another kink to his tail. "Whatchoo say? Ah… jou saying food better than down thatta way? I takeah jou word for it." Nodding in response to the chubby pooch, the ancient lizard peers past him into the cafe'.

The chubby pooch steps back, and gestures to one of the tables, pulling out a chair, while a much skinnier pooch in attire that is probably more befitting a waiter sets down a piece of parchment with printing on it. Ah! A menu!

The Kiriga promptly sweeps his robes to one side to take a seat, his joints making noises like settling wood. "Ahhh! Thanka jou! Jou respectah jou eldahs… very good, mustah be moh advanced culcha." He peers at the parchment, nearly touching his nose to it.

A few canines nearby cringe briefly at the loud popping noises, but quickly hide it.

The menu, sad to say, is written in as unintelligible a language as the one the dog is speaking in. Probably the same language, amazingly enough. Presumably everything on the menu is edible. Maybe if the Kiriga points at something, he'll get lucky. Alas, there are no illustrations, aside from a few drawings of decorative shields and pieces of armor along the border, but that doesn't appear to be the catch of the day.

The strange poodle in the black tights and black-and-white fur-makeup, meanwhile, has gotten out of the Kiriga's line of sight. He must be somewhere behind the orange martial arts master. He's pretty quiet, for sure. The pudgy dog, however, rattles on at a kilometer a minute, pointing at this, this, that and that on the menu.

One of the entries at the top says something like "Cerveaux en beurre noir avec de la salade de moule de boue".

"Urrh… I can haffa anything on this? Huh." Rather confused, the reptile looks askance at the other patrons of the cafe', to see what they're eating.

Another says, "Tripes a la mode de Caen". Another is a lot shorter, saying "

Escargot".

Well, funny to say, nobody else appears to be eating much of anything just now. Maybe it's not dinnertime in these parts, although the Kiriga's stomach suggests otherwise. They partake of drinks, for all the Kiriga can see at present.

Tooth furrows his brow, causing his mane to scrunch down and his ears to stick out a little farther. "Huh. Uhm… okay, I haffa… " The lizard closes his eyes, and pokes a finger somewhere near the center of the menu. "… dis!"

Just out of the corner of Tooth's eye, he can make out a black-gloved hand mimicking his pointing gesture, though coming down to bear on empty air instead of a held menu.

The old master's instincts make his head jerk around abruptly to try to catch the movement, making his mane puff out momentarily. "Eh?"

As the Kiriga jerks his head around, he sees the black-adorned poodle behind him doing exactly the same thing, jerking his head around to look at the street. He doesn't say a word, though, and he doesn't really have a mane to puff out.

The waiter meanwhile smiles and nods, reading aloud the Kiriga's selection from the menu. "Calmar croustillant en sauce a` miel-ail avec rouges les baies et la creme!" He blathers something else, and heads off to the kitchen, though the chef has already departed – surely to get to work on this culinary masterpiece for the master of the martial arts from afar.

"Eh? Whatta so interesting inna street?" Long Tooth cranes his neck out a little farther to peer over the fencing, not really noticing the chef disappear.

Hmm. Doesn't appear to be anything noteworthy in that direction, really. As Tooth cranes his neck a little farther, the poodle cranes just as much, now looking in a slightly different direction. Nothing interesting there, either.

An especially foppish-looking peacock, as powdered as his white-wigged avian wife, makes his way down the street, walking toward an ornately-decorated carriage. Some mutt servants follow behind, holding several boxes – many of them hat-boxes, by the look. As for the clothes, it's somewhat difficult to tell whether they might be dresses for the wife, or frilly blouses for the husband.

The wife, incidentally, has a black "beauty mark" visible on her beak … and the wig she wears looks almost like a beehive covered in snow.

Thoroughly puzzled, the old master eyes this strange dark poodle, then stares incredulously at the odd hairdo that goes walking past. "One stares atta nothing. One wear bees. I haffa been left inna village offa mad." He points at the black-clad poodle this time. "Who ah jou?"

After a bit, a plate is brought out and set before the Kiriga. It looks like some sort of betentacled sea creature … or part thereof … smothered in an ugly yellow-orangish glaze, surrounded with a frosting of cream, and studded with red berries.

Tooth gives his meal a suspicious sidelong glance before looking expectantly back at the black-clad poodle for a reply.

The poodle points his finger at the Kiriga in the same 'who are you' gesture Tooth had used earlier.

The Kiriga raises a paw experimentally, waving it in front of the poodle's face. "You deh?"

In responce, the poodle waves a hand in Tooth's face.

"Oho! So! Jou do everthingah I do, eh? Betchoo thinkah it pretty funny. Hmm… " The orangy reptile begins circling his table slowly.

The black-clad poodle simply nods and continues to mimic the Kiriga's movements, following him on the opposite side of the table.

Long Tooth reaches forward, toward the empty place-setting across from the seat he occupied. He poises a bony hand over where the plate would sit, wiggling his fingers from left to right, right to left, and back again, and waggling his eyebrows.

Several of the patrons in the cafe look up from their meals, curious about the goings on. The waiter seems somewhat impaitent.

And the mime follows suit, a blank grin plastered on his face as his hand hovered over the tentacled pastry.

Tooth lowers his paw like a crane, and closes it over an imaginary object, lightly squeezing empty air. "Ah? Issa good, yes?"

*SQUISH*

The mime's smile abrubtly vanishes.

"Jou a showman, right? Jou puttah liddle show on for us, eh?" The Kiriga reaches toward the place setting, grasping a pair of imaginary tentacles between his thumbs and index fingers. "Lessa see… squid kickah line!" Tooth provides scratchy musical accompaniment with a jaunty hummed tune as he flicks his fingers from left to right, right to left.

Shaking his hand off, the black-clad poodle pulls his digits from the pastry and walks towards Master Tooth. He makes a gesture as though he were removing a glove, although no glove seems apparent.

Tooth stops humming, and instead cocks his head to one side. A vaguely disappointed look crosses his wrinkled face. "Eh? No more, huh? Issah too bad, jou pretty good atta dis."

Whipping the nonexistant garment from his hand, the mime whips his hand to and fro in front of Tooth's face.

Ow! Funny, the poodle couldn;t have touched him… yet each one of the Kiriga's cheeks sting as though struck by a piece of cloth.

Tooth's head jerks back and forth, and one of his own paws rises up to clutch at his snout in surprise. He looks about to reply, but instead silently closes his mouth, the grim look on his face signalling realization of the gesture's intent. The orangy reptile steps backward, gathering his robes around him, then raises one gnarled paw, palm up, in an oddly quiet 'come on' gesture.

The poodle clutches something at his side and whips out… absolutely nothing! He seems to have a firm grip on it though and flourishes his hand as though it were carrying a sword or a rapier.

After testing his 'weapon' the mime leaps in, slashing at the Kiriga!

The old reptile tosses his head, letting each eyebrow flop over his shoulders before glancing at the surrounding patrons. He sniffs inaudibly, and extends a fist, with the thumb pointed down. Regarding his opponent again, he makes as if to crack his knuckles, though, since no sound is heard, it's impossible to tell if he really did. Falling into a combat stance, he drives forward to meet the mime, gaping his mouth in a silent kiai!

The mime's arm goes slicking past the Master and he feels a strange stinging sensation in his side. It's mearly a distraction and doesn't stop the master's fist from finding the poodle's smiling face.

The poodle goes sprawling out into the streets, landing on his backside. He seems momentarialy stunned. Ew… and tooth's fist has stage makeup gunk all over it now.

Tooth flinches soundlessly, but lets the punch's follow through take him a short distance before he glances outside to see how the poodle fared. He squints at his knuckles for a moment, before wiping them on his robe, then remembering the odd sting, touches a palm to his side, and looks at it.

No blood. It felt a heck of a lot like something cut him though.

The mime staggers to his feet and moves back into the cafe. He stops about fifteen feet away from the Kiriga and looks as though he's removing something from his pocket.

Curious! After checking his apparently unhurt (?) side, Tooth glances up again as his foe seems to collect himself. The old master crouches, glaring at the mime cautiously, watching his actions. One paw slowly reaches toward a nearby table…

The poodle pulls out NOTHING! (big suprise, eh?) He then proceeds to make peeling down motions on the nothing in his hands, removing something that he peeled from it, and eating it.

This seemingly harmless move causes confusion in the old Kiriga, who frowns deeply. Abandonning the table, he begins stomping toward the poodle in an exaggeratedly angry fashion, as if to have cross words with him that nobody would actually hear.

Absently, the mime tosses the peelings from the invisible foodthing down at the ground. The Kiriga's foot suddenly starts to slip out from under him as tough he just stepped on… a banana peel!

Zoosh! The Kiriga's foot skids, and his eyebrows shoot upward. Windmilling his arms around, he tries to keep his balance, flailing desperately as his forward momentum scoots him toward the mime faster than anticipated!

Not expecting this result, the mime attempts to get out of the way! His shoulder slams into something solid as he tries to move from side to side as an invisible box holds him in place. Finally he ties an imaginary blindfold around his eyes and makes a motion as though he were puffing on a cigerette.

The invisible peel encounters sudden resistance, and the stop causes Tooth to kick his foot reflexively, launching him toward the poodle in an ungraceful-looking bellyflop! The only sounds not simply implied by Tooth's shocked face are the flapping of his robes as he flies forehead-first.

The Kiriga collides soundly with the mime… or actually mutedly. At least he's relatively soft to hit There's the impact, and then Sooth finds himself sitting on top of a very unconcious poodle who doesn't appear to be wearing his makeup anymore. Wonder where it went?

There's a golden glow forming in the middle of the cafe…

Tooth gets groggily to his feet, peering over his defeated opponent. Standing as upright as he can manage, he waxes philosophical, finally speaking once again. "Huh. Now I knowah. Iffah mime fall in combat… he do nottah makeah sound." He turns back to face the cafe in search of what remains of his lunch, then stops short as he spies the golden glow. "Ngk?"

The form of a golden serpent's head appears, "Master Long Tooth is victorious against… uh… er… " for the first time the serpent's head looks unsure and looks off to the side, "We never did get his name, did we? Yes I KNOW he's not supposed to talk but you'd think" it whispers and then jolts as though shaken. "Er. Master Long tooth wins against the Mime."

And with that the serpent head vanishes, looking somewhat perturbed.

The old master puffs a few times, tapping his sunken chest with a thumb before hobbling back toward his table, and taking a seat in front of his slightly squished octopastry. Looking deeply satisfied, he saws off a piece with a tableknife, and takes a bite, savoring it.

Ahh! The taste of victory… It tastes kind of rich and chewy actually.

As a section of the pastry is removed the Kiriga's reflection glints at him on the bottom of the plate. Funny… he doesn;t remember having white skin.

Tooth munches thoughtfully on his meal, then doubletakes at the plate, staring at the reflection. He places a paw to his face, then looks over at the unconscious, paintless mime, as if something were dawning on him. He glances at the other patrons, as if he'd hoped they hadn't noticed the fracas that just took place.

No such luck. About a dozen canines, Kujakus, and other races are all staring at the Kiriga with expressions ranging from amusement to anger. The poodle waiter seems particularly annoyed.

"Ew. Tooth's face feels all greasy and chalky for some reason… and his fingers have white stuff on them now!

Tooth swallows hard… then shovels the rest of the pastry into his mouth as quickly as possible. Standing up quietly, he lists as if suddenly hit by a gale force wind. Flailing a hand around, it closes on thin air, somehow stablizing Long Tooth in the face of the hurricane, and he begins dragging himself along a curiously transparent rope towards the exit.

Several of the patrons applaud. Except for the waiter who moves himself to stand in the Kiriga's path. He holds up a slip of paper with several numbers written on it and then places his other hand under the path of the 'rope'. His hand curls into a fist except for two fingers which hang scissorlike below the Kiriga's lifeline. The waiter shakes his head.

Tooth falls on his face as his invisible rope suddenly goes slack. Dragging himself to his feet, he sighs (audibly), wiping the greasepaint off his face as best he can, and stifling a pained noise as he looks the bill over. He reaches into a lint-filled pocket, and turns it inside out, shaking his head at the waiter.

The waiter folds his arms and holds out an arm with a finger pointed downwards. He twirls it in a 'turn around' gesture.

Tooth stoops his shoulders resignedly, and turns around to march where the waiter directs, with a sneaking suspicion of where that might be. "Haffa pity onna old man… my handsah, dey be so wrinkly already… "

The poodle waiter shakes his head and points towards the kitchen, handing the Kiriga a scrubbrush and a rag.

And thusly armed, the ancient master sets off to do battle with dirty dishes and stubborn pots.