What's next?

The waitress finds the rulebook.

“Let me get a towel,” The almost naked waitress offers as she breaks free of your wandering hand and drops down onto her knees, face suddenly at your crotch level, as with a stilted grasping and clutching of nervous hands she picks up the soaked menu and napkins. Face red with embarrassment she looks at your pants seat again and rises, ass swaying prettily as she hurriedly retreats to the kitchen. She returns with a wad of paper towels to mop up the mess. Then she again retreats in shame.

In the kitchen she starts to deal with the wadded up mess of menus and napkins and... the rulebook. She looks at it, realising it is yours as she curiously reads the open page. She frowns as she sees what you’ve written and her face is confused ... “this can’t be real...” she mutters as she takes her pen. - Old rule. Waitresses must be tipped 100% of the bill. - she writes. Suddenly there is a flash and she’s wearing ruby studded panties. “Holy shit...” she looks at her bare breasts. “Why that motherfucking little shit...” she mutters as she realises what you’ve done.