Noon. A busy restaurant in Chinatown. Servers are pushing carts of food around, shouting things in Chinese, presumably the contents of their carts. Adami, Jingle Boy, and Jay Octavarium are eating Dim Sum.
ADAMI: I don't know what the hell is going on anymore. Does anyone know what the hell is going on?
JINGLE BOY: What do you mean?
ADAMI: I mean it seems like nothing makes sense. It's like we're all characters in a movie without any plot. One of those bad B movies that's just an excuse to have a bunch of people all in it, but with nothing like a coherent story.
JINGLE BOY: That's pretty meta.
JAY OCTAVARIUM: But that's how life is sometimes. Everybody has their own thing, and sometimes paths cross.
ADAMI: Yeah, but for no reason? Suddenly a bunch of people just end up together doing things? Like that whole thing with the pajama party. A bunch of girls hanging around in skimpy little nighties, guys hanging around outside the windows hoping to catch a glimpse of something...
JAY OCTAVARIUM: Man, that one was pretty hot.
ADAMI: The British one?
JAY OCTAVARIUM: Well her too, yeah, but...
ADAMI: The redhead?
JAY OCTAVARIUM: Would you let me...
ADAMI: The Serbian?
JAY OCTAVARIUM: She's not chubby!
JINGLE BOY: What?
ADAMI: Sorry, I was thinking of something else.
A server stops by with a cart. He has long hair and impressive facial hair. He is the only male server in the restaurant.
ADAMI points at one of the items on the cart. The Asian Man picks it up and sets it on the table. He says something in Chinese, just so that he'll have a speaking role and be paid scale for his appearance, but he's not important enough for us to know his name.
JINGLE BOY points at something, and Asian Man sets it on the table as well. Asian Man looks at JINGLE BOY critically, and seems to recognize him. On the cart, hidden between the stacks of bamboo steamers, is a knife. He reaches for it...