[color=007236][H1][Center]Grok[/Center][/H1][/color]

It had been a few hours, so naturally as the group arrived, Grok had already stained the suit he borrowed with coke. Leading their merry party with enthusiasm was a beer-gutted 40 something known as Greg. His oily red curls were combed back, and his fiery neckbeard was proudly displayed above his floral dress shirt. "Now Grok, do you remember what I told you?" He asks, placing his arm kind of over the larger man's shoulder as they had their names and numbers stuck on them.

Grok nods enthusiastically as the part comes into the room, which is dimly lit and holds an array of tables. Each one has a simple placard with a number on it pertaining to who their initial partner would be, and the men would shift to the right each time. [color=00746b]"Yes! Ketchup is a jelly, and the world is not ready to talk about it."[/color]

"Wha- No Grok, not that."

[color=007236]"Modern women will never compare to young Betty White!"[/color]

With that, Greg let's out a not so quiet whisper. "I told you that in confidence dude!"

[color=00746b]"Ah yes!Be confident! Grok remembers!"[/color]

"De... Jus- Yes. Look, just nod and don't say anything while I'm working my mojo alright?"
______________

As they headed off to their respective tables, off at table 9, a woman was waiting patiently at her table. She appears to be in her late twenty, with Auburn hair and a women's suit top visible. Next to her is a suitcase, but it seems larger than normal. Her long nails are lightly tapping on it, and she is using her other hand to meticulously make sure the table piece is perfectly centered.