"Hmmm." A mischievous glint caught in his eye, as he slowly lifted himself from his seat. "Hey! Tobar!" He yelled, grinning at a tall heavyset boy, who locked on to him with an intense stare. "Isn't the food par-tic-u-lar-ly good today?" He asked cheerfully.“How can you do that?” she asked, interested in his offer.
Tobar, sneered at Grafe, his seat squealing on the floor, as it was shoved back. He threw himself up on to his feet smashing a fist on the table. "The food is GARBAGE! The food is ALWAYS GARBAGE and you know it!" He bellowed, grabbing his bowl of soup and throwing it Grafe's direction.
Grafe ducked under the edge of the table chuckling to himself. He hadn't riled up Tobar in a while. It was quite a bit of fun to see him trash the place. A loud crash followed by angry yells told him that Tobar had done exactly what he'd been expecting, tipping the entire table over soaking half the occupants with soup and spilling the supper of all of the people sitting at that table. It wasn't long before the entire room was filled with arguing and flying bowls of soup.
"See? Good old Tobar. He's so predictable. Always ready to start something."