This one is kind of... crappy. Needs some work, but we will see.
Start Fiction:
The waitress scooted away from the table, eyes wide. The two men dressed in biker gear laughed, banging on the table causing the silverware to dance.
The restaurant was almost empty, Joe was with Emma. It had been a couple weeks since they had time to make plans for dinner. The distraction kind of pissed Joe off.
The men continued to laugh loudly; others on the other side of the restaurant kept looking over at the men.
"Don't they know they're not in a bar?" Joe said.
"No shit," Emma said. Taking a drink of her beer, she looked at the men; she glared at the men. Joe knew she had it in her to walk over and tell the two to shut the hell up. He was kind of looking forward to her doing so.
"Well, maybe they're done and will be leaving soon," Joe said.
Their waitress came to the table to check in as they ate. "Everything taste okay?" she asked with a soft southern accent.
"Could you tell those two yahoos over there to shut up?" Emma snapped.
"I don't know what their deal is, but I know the managers are having a discussion about them right now," she said placing her hand on her hip, looking in the bikers direction. "Hopefully, they are getting ready to kick them out."
The two managers appeared from the kitchen and walked slowly towards the front door. As they reached the waiting area, three police officers walked in the door. The managers had a brief conversation with them, pointed towards the bikers and the officers began heading in their direction.
The bikers were quick to pick up the incoming heat and became silent.
"Oh, this could get ugly," Joe said. All eyes watched the men as the officers approached. Ten feet from the bikers, two of the officers began laughing; as did the bikers. The officers slapped the bikers on the shoulders and continued to laugh; one officer called the older biker "lieutenant" to every one's surprise.
"What the fuck?" Emma said.
End Fiction.
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