The four heroes made a quick trans-spatial stop for the suit and shield of Captain America before the gem on Peter Quill's wrist put them where they needed to be for the next pick-up: even if it had put them there a full hour before Quill knew, as the gem told him, they needed to be there. Timing was always an issue with the gem, and Quill knew why...even if he kept tight lipped about the gem, what it was, who gave it to him, and why the timing was usually off. The analogy he had used with Ernie to confirm he understood was: [i]It's my phone booth, and you're my Rufus?[/i] 

Quill swore he thought he heard the giant Cosmicdude Ernie chuckle after phrasing their arrangement in terms of Bill & Ted.

But he knew he was on anything but an excellent adventure, the only true relief that it hadn't been overly difficult to convince anyone to hop into the phonebooth with him so far. Or was their ease in acceptance part of Ernie's plan? Is that why THESE heroes were on the list? They were all ready for a fight bigger than the ordinary hero stuff. They were all ready to save the infinite, endless, of creation. He hoped so. Who knew, maybe they'd even make a movie about it one day? Not that Quill was leading man material, anyway. Always a Han, never a Luke. Just the way he liked it. 

The odd hour before they needed to be at the club was spent at a place of his insistence, after one of the new guys let Quill borrow some scratch: McDonald's. They all sat in a booth tucked into the back corner of the "establishment", the Duck gnawing on fries, Cap looking tormented, the Devil sipping on a milkshake, and the great Star Lord demolished a Quarter-Pounder with Cheese meal with large fries and a large Coke like it was an easy Xandarian girl. Cap and the Devil drawing way too much attention to their table with their totally obvious super-suits, only Quill and the Duck keeping it on the d-low. 

Cap alone seemed to have a selfie request from some starstruck stranger every five minutes, though none of them seemed to believe the Star Lord when he piped in that it was the REAL Captain America. Whatever a "cosplayer" was. Quill would've ordered another burger, but it quickly became time to ditch and head for the club--if only to get Cap and el Diablo a momentary reprieve. Quill was about to give the two of them another round of shit for causing such a scene, until they hit the club's rope line: it was only when the mountain of a man in a black shirt five sizes too small that acted as Bouncer saw Cap that he suddenly smiled, and welcomed them in.

Quill was the last one through, smiling at a young honey that was still trying to talk her way into the door, delaying him for a few moments. The coat girl was even hotter, but she gave him a strange look when he declined to hand over his coat--yet Cap seemed to get no grief for holding onto the shield. Quill muttered until they entered the club proper; the music blasting just funky enough for Star Lord's awesome tastes, his hips instantly grooving this way and that slightly as his gait became part dance at the song that seemed to be about "getting lucky." 

Some girl shouted a "Shake ya tailfeather!" at the Duck as they passed her group on the dancefloor, heading towards the back, where the one of them with the peek senses had already found their intended target. The four of them approached the big man's private booth side-by-side-by-side-by ducky side, Quill smiling at the ladies as their attention was piqued. "Hey ladies, take a hike. We need to chat with this guy."