Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week's photo was contributed by Rochelle herself.

Patrons screamed as a black-clad figure smashed through the ceiling window, dropping to the floor.

"Come out, Lobster!" he snarled. "Your evil-doing days are done!"

"Good evening, Sir," said a waiter, quite unphased. "Table for one?"

"What? Where is the Lobster?"

"I'm sure I don't know, Sir. Maybe a cocktail while you wait?"

"I'm a top agent, dammit!"

"That's nice, Sir."

"I've got the wrong address again, haven't I?"

"Indeed. We do have lobster, if Sir would care to choose one?"

"Fine. I'll destroy the lobster one way or another."

"Certainly, Sir. I'll have the ceiling repairs added to your bill, Sir."