It was mid-morning. The streets of Rome were busy and crowded as Brutus the Stupid made his way through the throngs and towards the Palatine. Brutus felt a stiffly awkward, yet proud and important as he strutted through the marketplace in his new tunic and sandals. He was bathed and shaven, with a new haircut. He walked briskly to the address of his new employer, only stopping briefly to steal an apple from a fruit-seller.

He arrived at the address that had been written on the scroll that had been handed to him. His jaw dropped. It was a truly magificent domus, replete with marble statues, fountains, lapis lazuli archways and hanging gardens. The pair of armed guards flanking the entranceway gave Brutus a hard, piercing look. Brutus merely shrugged and walked on, following the exterior wall towards the servant's entrance at the back.

The steward Clitus was there, leaning in the doorframe. He stood upright as he regarded Brutus from head to toe. "Well, it seems at least that you have made yourself presentable. The Lady Pompeia isn't here at the moment, but she has laid out breakfast for her clients. Come on inside." The Steward waves his hand in a welcoming gesture.

Brutus steps into the kitchen area. Several slaves are here, preparing meals of various sorts in various fashions. Some are kneading and rolling bread. Other slaves tend to the ovens, roasting meat and stirring cauldrons. Brutus salivates at the odors of the food, yet follows the Steward to a dining area next to the kitchen.
There is a large wooden table here, covered with bowls, baskets, plates, platters and dishes of many sorts of foods. Several well-kempt, but modestly attired people stand around the table, casually helping themselves to the foods laid out for them. There is some casual conversation, but mostly eating.
"These are the clients of my Lady Pompeia," the steward says. "Some of them are ex-slaves, some are servants, others simply clients of the Lady. This food is laid out for her clients every morning, provided by the generosity of their patron, the Lady Pompeia. Help yourself, reptile."
Brutus takes little time making his way over to the wooden table where the food is prepared. He helps himself to the bread, some boiled crayfish, asparagus, cheeses, fruits, and some fish sauce. He drinks some of the wine, mixed with water.
The Steward watches the man Brutus eat. There is a thinly diguised look of disgust at seeing the ravenous thug wolf down the food with no concern for manners.
"You shall find that my Lady Pompeia is quite gracious, and quite generous to her clients. It is a shame that you could not meet her today, but she has been attending to business matters."
Brutus nods dimly, as he finds and devours a roast suckling boar, as well as the apple in it's mouth. He reaches into a bowl of figs, eating them by the handful. The other clients in the room quietly back away from Brutus, casting curious glances at him and whispering to each other from behind their hands.
Brutus seems oblivious to this. He takes some of the food from the table and begins putting it into a large napkin, folding the corners over so that he can take it home. He belches loudly. Then, he spits a chicken bone onto the food-covered table. Hoisting the heavy, food-laden napkin over his shoulder, he turns to the Steward to leave.
"You kin tell yer Missus that the gladiator Brutus Crassus is indeed pleased to be a client of hers, and is willing to accept the terms of her employment. I'll be back again tomorrow for more breakfast."
With this, he departs. Stunned into silence, the other clients gathered around the breakfast table now resume their conversations. The Steward Clitus watches as the ex-gladiator departs, shaking his head in disbelief.