[Roger's POV]
(Nearby human world, the beach.)
"Would you like a drink, sir?" a waitress asked, carrying a tray of cold beverages and even a few snacks.
Roger smiled and, without saying a word, took one of the cold beverages and drank it. Before the waitress could walk away, he took another, then another.
Eventually, he had drunk all the drinks on the entire tray and even ate the food, making the waitress stare at him with a disapproving look.
"Thank you for the meal," Roger said plainly, looking away.
"You..." The waitress sighed, rubbing her temples in frustration. "It's not my first time encountering an entitled old man. I hope you can't get it up for the missus, bastard."
With those words, she walked away, pouting.
However, Roger couldn't care less about the beings of this planet. After all, they were unfortunate enough to be in the midst of a cataclysmic explosion.
