“... you are covered in spiders,” you say dully.

Hate shrugs as he shovels down breakfast. “Yuh, so?”

“You... are covered... in spiders,” you repeat again.

“Yeah. I'm walking down the sidewalk, right, and Jintsuu comes walking up to me with this big smile on her face. And she's got a bucket. And she raises it, and dumps it on my head, and instead of water, what comes out is-”

“Spiders.”

“Thousands of 'em!” Hate confirms, and digs in with another forkful.

“And... this doesn't bother you.”

“Why would it?” Hate asks. “It's fucking great. People see you coming, they just clear out. One female ensign damn near jumped into traffic when I passed her.” He chuckles and continues eating.

“That's it?”

“Yup,” Hate confirms. “Jintsuu threw spiders on me. She looked a little disappointed when I didn't scream, though.”

“Uh huh,” you say, sitting down to finish your own breakfast. Willie regains her feet, but clings to your free arm as you eat slowly - it's a lot less awkward with most of the shipgirls crowding the exits.

“You see the shit those guys at the door are packing?” Hate asks.

“Full plate carriers and carbines, yeah.”

“Dude. They're chambered for .50 Beowulf.”

“Wow,” you say flatly. “That sounds awesome.”

“You're a philistine motherfucker, you know that?”

“Wow,” you repeat. “Philistine. That's a big word for a Marine.”

“Supercalifragalisticexpialofuckyou,” Hate retorts smoothy between gulps of coffee.