And here comes something to be even further overwhelmed about. Zatanna is now standing before him, in a blink of an eye, in costume. She's a a cake propped up against her palm and balanced further by her arm and a card in her other hand.

"Hey, kiddo, don't have much time this weekend, so I'm in and out. The cake's magicked to stay fresh and if anyone that isn't you tries to eat it, the piece will come up tasting like horseradish and sardines -- and then the piece will grow back." Heh. She thought of that all on her own. "And the card's a card. But it has money in it." Quite a bit of money, actually. Five hundred dollars was an acceptable gift to a young man just turning eighteen, yes?

"But also, I'll take you somewhere or we can do something or... whatever? But yeah, busy. That whole Metamen thing." Just so he had an idea that it really was important. "In case you don't have my personal number, it's in the card." She waits, now, because this is meant to be short and sweet. But she doesn't want to just dump it and ditch.