Singing Telegram Daisuke grinned as he patiently waited at the counter of the brightly decorated flower and card shop. Shortly, the young woman on shift came back.
“Well,” she replied, “Tamachi is a little out of our usual delivery range, but if you would be willing to pay some extra charges…”
“Sure,” Daisuke cut her off enthusiastically as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocked. The young woman gave a slight frown at his rudeness.
“And this is everything? The balloons, card, confetti,” Daisuke paused momentarily, his grin threatening to break his face, “and the singers?” The woman at the counter nodded again, too intent on filling out the receipt to notice Daisuke’s devilish grin. Not that it mattered, she had seen it a hundred times before, one of the joys of running a singing telegram service.
“Name?” she asked.
“Ichijouji Ken.”
