Dressed in traditional kimonos, the servers of the teahouse were brimming with a quiet boldness that impressed Kyoko as she and the three other magical girls entered. Madoka took off her sombrero and placed it on the rack. Homura sat down in a nearby booth, Sayaka and Kyoko followed close behind. One of the kimono waitresses waved peacefully as a silent greeting, and Madoka waved back just as excitedly as always. They exchanged bows as Homura scooted over to make room for her fiance.

The server eyed the blinding rainbow that was these patrons and their diverse hair colors, then turned and briskly walked off. Kyoko raised an eyebrow. Madoka noticed her and winked.

“Don't worry, Kyoko,” Madoka said. “This teahouse is special in that the servers take one look at you and order for you based on what they think you'd want. It's astonishingly accurate 78% of the time.*” Mdoka giggled adorably, and Kyoko blushed as she watched her smile brighten. It- Wait.

“Wait. What's with the asterisk?” Kyoko asked.

Madoka's smile disappeared, and she groaned loudly. “...Based on a Gallup poll conducted over the course of August 4th and September 8th, 2013, using the results of 2983 respondents between the ages of 11 and 97. Pollers were contacted by phone using random selection from the complete reservation history of the restaurant, taking out multiples of the same customer or customers confirmed to be deceased. Of the over 5000 called, 2017 either did not respond or refused to answer the survey questions. Of those that did... …..Do I really have to tell you the whole asterisk??” She was completely out of breath at this point.

Kyoko was.. Well, she didn't know. She simply nodded. “Uh, yeah. I got it. 78%. Lots of poll stuff.”

“(Plus or minus three percentage points.)”

Sayaka, who had been staring off into space for the past several minutes with no indication of real thought, slammed her fist into the table with no warning, her eyes coming into complete focus, just like the moment of clarity for any decent Victorian-era novel protagonist.

“Madoka!” she shouted with shocking ferocity. “Remember that one Hitomi chick who used to hang with us? What happened to her?”

“...Who?”

At this, Sayaka suddenly lost her train of thought. She spotted noticed the server returning, carrying a tray of multicolored food and drink items, and began staring once again. Madoka looked at Homura and Kyoko and shrugged.

“Here is your food.” The maid set the tray on their table and bowed. “Arigatou, ikimasu wa genki.” This nonsensical Japanese reminded Kyoko that they were in Mexico and this teahouse here was actually completely out of place. She ignored this fact immediately afterwards, and never thought about it again.

Kyoko got what was apparently a “Chocolate Ramen Smoothie.” It certainly LOOKED edible, but the name didn't inspire much confidence in that regard... Even so, she chowed down on her meal, looking like a feral hyena compared to the others. Madoka nibbled on her candy-colored burrito, Sayaka sipped on her salad stew soda, and Homura took the occasional crunch of her pantsu panini. Yeah... it was pretty good. Actually, really good. Fantastic, even. Like all the greatest foods in the universe, combined into one delicious... combo. Damn, it felt good to be part of the 78%. Could make an awesome T-shirt out of that, you know... Occupy Maid Cafe, and all that...

“So,” Homura said, still less than halfway through with her food.

“So,” said Madoka.

“So,” said Sayaka, who was probably only saying this to defy the Rule of Three.

“So, um,” Kyoko said before it got out of hand. “Are we actually going to discuss the wedding here today? Because these reservations were not exactly cheap, and-”

“Probably not,” Homura interrupted, like usual. “We will do it offscreen so as not to spoil the surprise. Anyway, this chapter feels like it is about to end soon, so we couldn't anyway.”

“How soon?” Kyoko asked.