You work in a cafe wherein the waiters and waitresses' required to dress up as a maid—quite an embarrassing job honestly, yet it didn't matter to you nor any of your coworkers since all were paid enough.

Distinctive chattering here and there, new customers keep coming in every minute, maids hopping from table to table.

Scaramouche glances around the place as he sat down at a corner, amused by the number of people. You took heed of his arrival and approached him, a pen and paper in hand.