If nothing else, he could have been struck in the face. As it is, Gaelio lurches back in his seat as a handful of noodles whip him on the head, a persistent string or two clinging to his hair. With an indignant yelp, he reaches up to untangle the offensive food from his bang.

"What's the meaning of this? I just got here, and food's flying all over the place! Who—"

Perhaps he should have kept quiet, for a colorful pudding sails gracefully across the hall and nails Gaelio in the mouth. He swings backward from the unexpected impact of the ill-timed dessert, possibly headbutting any hapless souls behind him in the process. Pity; he'd just wanted to eat his exotic meal in peace.