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lunch

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Das Schnitzel looks kind of sad after she heard the radio broadcast. With Camilla gone she has no one to drink schnapps with. The Chef couldn't handle his alcohol. The Chef puts his arm around Schnitzel.

Eh du nut vurry Des Schneetzel. I receeefed a cell frum hume-a und Gunzu seys she-a is fery heppy. Beseedes, yuoo hefe-a Glureea tu pley veet.

Hellu buys und gurls. I hupe-a yuoo slept vell. Oor iff yuoo deedn't sleep vell I hupe-a it ves fur a pleesooreble-a reesun. Bork Bork Bork! Durty keeds.

Tudey's menoo is:

-Hut Dugs

-Cheeseboorgers

-Ooneeun Reengs

-Ice-a Creem (Ell flefurs!)

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"Then go home," John says. "If you've got stuff there, go."

Cameron grimaces. "Dad doesn't want me there. He says the best way to help is to keep up my work."

"It isn't if you're miserable being here," John says. "That helps no one, dude."

"You tell that to them," Cameron shrugs. They told him to come back, so he'd come back. "I doubt getting him upset by not listening to him is going to help much either."

"Okay," John says slowly. "I...have no idea what to say, Cam. I don't know what to do in these situations and my normal idiocy doesn't seem appropriate right now."

Cameron sighs and rubs a hand across his eyes. "I know. I keep trying to distract myself, but it's kinda not working and I should probably explain to people why I'm being so crabby, but it's exhausting to have to tell it once, let alone 15 times."

"Well, don't tell everyone then," John suggests. "People are usually nice enough not to push if they get the feeling that someone doesn't wanna talk."

Cameron nods and picks up his burger. "So, what did I miss while I was gone?"

"Hmmm." John can't really think of anything huge. "Not much. Classes, homework, studying, and all that jazz. It was kinda boring."

Cameron shakes his head. "I leave you alone for a few days and everytihng goes boring. Didn't realise you guys missed me that much," he tries to joke.

"You weren't gone long enough for us to miss you," John jokes back.

Cameron rolls his eyes. "You always know how to make me feel so loved."

"I try," John says, shrugging. "I'm a littl tired so I'm not my usual charming self."

"Aeryn keep you up?" It's out before he can stop himself. "Sorry."

John blushes. "Personal, dude. Ask her yourself. She might tell you after she decks you."

"Uh, I'm keeping out of anything like that. I got enough bruises to last me the week," he says, motioning to his jaw.

Walter, seeing his Big Brother, whom he hasn't hassled since starting school, walks up.

He has a contentedly clucking chicken under his arm and appears to stop to have a short discussion with her of hut dugs. At least, that's what it seems like from his side of it.

From her side of it, she's asking him if he believes Descartes' declaration of "je pense, donc je suis."

He looks back and forth between Cam and John and chooses Cam because he thinks he recognizes the shirt he's wearing.

"Cam, I need your help. Nothing big."

"Uh," Cameron stares at the chicken for a moment, but then he's seen Marty with Camilla so it's not all that strange. "Sure, man. What's up?"

"Can you help me find the guys who did last night's radio broadcast? Lee Crichton and John Adama? I would like to have a word or two with them."

Cameron raises an eyebrow and smirks as he looks at John for a moment. "You mean John Crichton and Lee Adama. Yeah, I probably could."

"Why doesn't it surprise me that they can't keep their names straight?"

Walter's chicken friend clucks at him and he looks down, unaware that she's laughing at him.

"I just want to discuss the fine island nation of my birth. "

"That's really not them, man." Cameron replies seeing how John is keeping his mouth shut for now. "It's the radio, I think they've got access to professor Jerusalem's security around the school or something. Around here? Nothing's really private ~~unless you put a NFB tag on it~~."

"You'd think closing the bloody door would be good enough."

Walter frowns and his chicken jumps out of his grip onto the table, pecking tentatively close to John and Cam's trays. She appears to be waiting the requisite five seconds beforee just going after their food.

"That doesn't excuse what they said about England."

"Hey!" Cameron quickly pushes the muppet chicken away from his plate. "No, it doesn't. Although, I don't think Lee has a clue as he's not exactly from Earth." He explains as he tries to keep his cheeseburger feather free.

"I can give you their room numbers? Would that work?"

The chicken looks distinctly put out. She swats at Cam with a wing and pecks at his hand.

Walter nods. "That will do. That will do perfectly in fact."