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Something to the Table.

Something to the Table.

Welcome to the party, folks!

A lot of hard work and planning went into this, isn’t it remarkable?

We have snacks for days, whether you’re looking for something salty, sweet, or savory.

The drinks are overflowing here, you’ll never have to go thirsty again.

And the music, oh that wonderful music…it plays on and on, until the break of dawn.

As with all good things, however, this is just one little catch.

One barrier to entry, if you will.

This party is something of a potluck.

So, I hope you brought some food to share with the rest of us here in this glorious space.

Oh, what’s that? You didn’t bring anything?

That’s no good at all!

I suggest you turn back now, hop on your ride of choice, and go scrounge something up for the rest of us!

I don’t care if you go home and cook a casserole real quick, or swing by a drive-thru and grab a box of tacos.

But you cannot come to my party without some good eats, you hear me?

You don’t get a taste of the good life without bringing something to the table!

After all, the whole point of a party is to have a bit of fun, right?

And we can’t have any fun if people are not going to abide by one simple rule.

Once you’ve found something delicious to share with the rest of us, you can come join the everlasting celebration…but not a minute sooner!

Because that’s exactly where I find myself with Jet Set Radio.

A couple party poopers that have forgotten to bring a dish to the banquet.

That was all I asked for when we first made our little agreement.

When I brought you to this party.

To bring something to the table.

I gave you multiple opportunities to make good on your promise.

To wreak a little bit of havoc in the Slaughterhouse.

And all I asked for in return was something for us to celebrate together.

You could’ve brought us the sweet, savory flavor of championship gold.

You each received a shot at that, one way or another.

Yet here you both are, empty-handed at the potluck.

And all you brought was the salt.

No, this won’t do at all.

My queen will not be pleased…and I can’t have that, can I?

Tag, Ether…I have no choice but to keep you away from the celebration.

The spoils of this party will not reach your hands, or your tongue.

You will be turned away, forced to sulk in disappointment as Pyre and I revel in jubilee.

A fitting punishment, for disappointing us this deeply.

For disappointing me.

I won’t let either of you yuck my yum.

I’m going to enjoy every minute of what’s to come.

Maybe then you’ll understand the importance of following simple guidelines to the letter.

But this party won’t throw itself.

So the party will rock on, without you two.

Which just leaves more food for The Blackharts.