"Foods coming," he reassured her, looking over toward the kitchen. It made him uncomfortable, this barely dressed woman waiting on them, and he gave her a smile and raised his hand in a cheery wave. The nymph giggled, and slipped the very thin strap of her negligee off her shoulder as she winked at him.
"Good - good work," Much said, and gave her a thumbs up. What were you supposed to do in this situation?
(Talk to your friend, idiot.) "It's a lot, isn't it? And all cos you were trying to do the right thing." He gave her a small pat on the back, but it did feel a little awkward, this contact when she didn't actually need him to physically support her. "I think that oh-" The nymph was suddenly there, sliding a platter of food in front of Marcie, breads spread with various different colours.
"There's sweet pea pesto crostini and Greek olive tapenade," the nymph said in a voice so musical it would rival Alan's.
"Awesome," said Much, who hoped it was. "You eat," he told Marcie. "I'm going to let my friends know we're not dead."