Reginald Mouse, with a silk bowtie and meticulous whiskers, surveys the menu, his posture perfect. Claude Cheetah, broad-shouldered and brash, slouches, claws tapping noisily. "The chef’s truffle risotto is exquisite, Claude. Perhaps you’d enjoy something subtle tonight?" "Subtle? I want something I can sink my teeth into! Got anything with bones?"

"You ever try eating like this, Reg? Makes it taste better. The rules here are silly!" "Some might say etiquette is what separates us from the animals, Claude." "Ha! I am an animal!" Reginald Mouse dabs delicately at his mouth with a napkin, eyes narrowing as the cheetah noisily slurps his water.

"Excuse me, might I trouble you for a moment? The ambiance suffers under certain... uncivilized influences." The waiter inclines his head in understanding, eyes flickering toward the cheetah.

Waiter, role: Impeccable service, subtle authority. "Sir, may I ask you to accompany me for a brief word?" "What’s this about? I’m not done eating!" "I assure you, your dining experience will continue—elsewhere." With a huff, the cheetah is guided away, leaving crumbs and a palpable silence in his wake.

"Your main course, sir." "How thoughtful. Let’s see what the chef recommends tonight." The waiter lifts the lid with practiced elegance, revealing a perfectly roasted cheetah, garnished with sprigs of rosemary and a glistening jus.

"Finally, a dinner worth remembering." Reginald Mouse eats in peace, the candlelight casting a soft glow over his contented face.