Papa Penne's Italian Cuisine: a rustic dine-in place for those who want a hefty meal and to feel fancy without spending much money. It mostly catered to local college students, high schoolers, and the occasional family of 4 that just needed a break. The building had been there since before Evelyn had moved in and the weathering on the tables and chairs was beginning to show the place's age. The nervous doctor slid into the revolving door, once inside she made note of the interior. Both sides of the dining room housed rows of large booth seats, their leather torn from years of abuse and the table tops looked none the better. The center of the room was filled with more tables and chairs and luckily the place was fairly crowded so she wouldn't draw that much attention. Looking past the dinner rush of people, the back of the room had a window into the kitchen where guests could watch the chefs hand-toss dough, simmer spaghetti sauce, and flip salads. On the far right corner was a narrow hallway that led to gendered bathrooms and a supply closet. A leaky pipe above dripped water into a bucket near the wall with a wet mop leaning just next to it.

The tiny being in her pocket was no larger than an ant so recognition would be a problem after she dropped it off. Pretending to fix her heel, Evelyn crouched between two groups of people and carefully slid the vial out of her lab coat. unscrewing the top, she dumped the person inside underneath an empty table and quickly retreated out of the restaurant certain she hadn't been seen.

The chaos of tumbling down a giant glass slide was nothing compared to the parade of footsteps around you. Shoes of every shape and size stamped around trying to get past one another but none seemed to get anywhere close to you. The wooden floor was littered with dust and unseen food debris; perfect for you to eat even if they were dirty. You knew at some point one of the waiters would bring the next group over to you, so time was limited in where you could go. You saw a nuclear family of four seated next to you, the brother and sister looked around 5-7 years old and the tired parents looked desperate for a night out. Across the open floor were towering booths, the nearest of which held two snobby-looking women engrossed in their glasses of wine. You also saw the kitchen and bathrooms towards the back of the room. The central revolving door was much too large and far too fast for you to even think of leaving this place alone. Stuck with limited options and limited time, you decide to...