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 Posted: Sun Dec 27, 2009 9:26 pm
She was wholly unimpressed.
The cashier standing across from her seemed to expect that a storm was coming, and it wasn't the sort of one that could be easily avoided.
With a 'tsk' Delphine dumped her plate of food on the counter, her soda pop falling to the side and spilling. Did she care? Not one bit. She was displeased, dissatisfied. She thought there was some sort of a satisfaction guarantee in this place, oh, and the waver that stated that it was McDonald's fault fat people got fatter. "What the hell is this s**t?" The cashier was writing off the spilled coke as an accident, and hurriedly cleaning it up before too much attention was brought to them self and a very unhappy customer.
"You're not looking at me..." she peered closely at the name tag, "Derek. Derek, you can clean that s**t up later. I want a refund, actually, I want a double-refund for the s**t you tried to make me eat." She grabbed her french fries, and with a twisted expression she shoved it towards Derek's face. "What is that you see in there? Oh, that's a pubic hair. Funny." And she proceeded to push the fries closer until the poor guy was stumbling back.
"My pop was flat. What the hell is with your new attempts at healthy food anyways? From the people eating here, it's not very effective. I want my refund." She was taking out her frustrations on the poor staff of McDonalds, all because her cell phone bill came in, and it was not pretty.
Not. Pretty.
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Posted: Mon Dec 28, 2009 12:00 am
Hillworth was out for the holidays, but Khaldun had nowhere to go. Stuck in the dorms once again, unsurprisingly, no different from the last winter. The general dreary look of a Hillworth dorm room seemed to be designed to be unwelcoming. Maybe they'd talked up a bunch of shrinks about how to build a school where faking sick would get you sick, so they'd be able to turn out onto the streets of Destiny City a handful more juvenile delinquents at the end of each senior year. The dorms were like living inside a fluorescent-lit, claustrophobic cardboard box, barely gracious enough to include airholes (there was a window, it was just kind of hard to sneak out through it when he was six feet tall). And on top of that, everyone had to double up - two people, two teenage guys, cramped together in a room that had only the bare essential furniture.
No one could live like that. Used to it as he was, even Khaldun wasn't keen to be in his dorm room for long except if he was unconscious. So he grabbed a few bucks from his dwindling cash stash (bullying did pay), and headed out into the frosty December afternoon to pick up some fast food. If the dorm rooms didn't get you, the cafeteria fare did. Especially as it neared Christmastime - the cafeteria ladies were starting to get unusually adventurous with whatever they could chip out of the back of the freezers.
So there he was in a crowded McDonald's that smelled like equal parts sweaty gym socks and grease fire, tapping one foot impatiently as a young woman cut through the line to make a complaint. It wasn't going well for her, so far as Khaldun could tell. Maybe there was grease in the air here, too, or something, because the cashier she was making her complaint to was greasier than anything they deep fried in the place. His hair was slicking down even as he meekly shook his head. This was going to take ******** forever, wasn't it. Well, maybe if they coughed up their 50 cents for whatever dead rat she slipped into her food, she'd be on her way and he'd be eating some real food this week, not some kind of godforsaken poisonous 'casserole'. After glancing around to confirm his place in line was going to be irretrievably lost, Khaldun sauntered over to the counter and laid a hand on Delphine's shoulder as though he knew her (he didn't).
"Derek," Khaldun parroted in a sickly sweet voice that was carved into the evolutionary memory of every bullying victim. It was the voice that stole lunch money, tied them to flagpoles, swirlied them in the bathroom, and when it ran out of ideas it just beat them up for kicks while their peers cheered on. Derek looked greasy enough for it to strike a chord. "Must be your first day on the job. Didn't read the employee handbook. See, the customer is always right. But I can't blame you for not recognizing this joint's secret ingredient there. You sure as hell haven't seen a single p***y in your life since the day you were born, though the jury's still out on how many dicks. But that's why she's telling you about it, man."
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Posted: Mon Dec 28, 2009 12:20 am
She felt a hand on her shoulder, and was about to shoot an appropriate '******** off' in the owner's direction when Khaldun's voice cut through the air. A knight in shining armor? One glance at him confirmed that he most certainly was not, and never would be. Temporary partner in crime? Yeah, that seemed appropriate, so she let his hand rest on her shoulder. The more he talked, the more he grew on her. The guy wasn't so bad, could trash-talk just nicely. He had a different style, of course, but it was an infectious sort of trash-talking.
Derek, unfortunately, was very much likely in his first week of working there, and very much seemed to have never dealt with a complaint, especially in the form of two annoyed teens. He blanched, spent a few moments looking uncomfortable, trying to figure out how to explain himself. It certainly seemed like an attack on HIM more than the food. "We try our best to make sure... every customer is satisfied." He should probably have called a manager, poor boy didn't think that. The hounds sniffed out the scent of fear.
"Now, Derek, you're not listening to us!" she tsked, breaking the little boundary of 'no touching' to grab the boy's shirt and pull him closer to her. She let him go when she was satisfied she had his attention. "I am not satisfied, and I would have been certain you stuck your own pube in here for your twisted pleasure, except I'm pretty sure you're not man enough to grow your own." Very carefully she pulled a fry out from the tainted collection, the pubic hair dangling over the golden edge, and without further ado, she shoved it against his mouth. The boy naturally reeled back before eating it, but it still had Delphine giggling with delighted pleasure.
"Now, I would really enjoy a refund, plus some cash on the side for having to put up with this s**t, and being kind enough not to really force feed you the pubic hair." They were starting to attract the attention of nearby employees, let alone other customers. Delphine hoped they attracted more attention, so every ******** customer in this place would walk out. It'd teach them a lesson for trying to feed her pubes.
It was nothing like venting your frustration out on unsuspecting victims to brighten the day!
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Posted: Sun Feb 14, 2010 2:06 am
Khaldun let go of the girl's shoulder when she started getting rough with the cashier, watching with the quiet approval of a fellow professional. He glanced down at her tray, picked up the sandwich as though it were a weapon, sopping with soda and condiments. Then he smiled, the sort of devious smile that indicated no forethought whatsoever. It was all testosterone now.
"And about the sandwiches," the teen started in with that same saccharine tone. He shook the sandwich, raising his voice to make sure they got some attention. The sandwich drippings, as well as a stray tomato slice, sprayed Derek across the front of his shirt and part of his face. The line of bundled-up city dwellers looking for a fast meal were growing increasingly agitated by the wait time. Khaldun was thoroughly enjoying himself, at least - killing people wasn't nearly as worthwhile as simply antagonizing them. "I heard in China, chicken feet are supposed to be good for you. Ancient Chinese secret or something."
Derek must have thought he was lucky to get away with his uniform lightly decorated with food in the style of Jackson Pollock. It could have been an accident, maybe, or at least written off that way. But if there was one thing Khaldun was an expert at, it was Going Too Far. Completing the modern art of the shirtfront came the rest of the sandwich, hurled dead center at the cashier's chest.
"Too bad this isn't some Jade Palace or Sam Wo's chinese takeout, a*****e. Give the girl her money back!" Sparing only a second to take in Derek's reaction, he turned on his heel to face the onlookers, throwing his hands out wide in a gesture of apparent frustration. "Look, don't just stand there, tell this dumbshit to cough up the refund already! Do you really want to wait around for them to put pube fries up there on the menu since you all choke them down without any protesting? VIVA LA REVOLUCION!"
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Posted: Sun Feb 14, 2010 1:08 pm
Derek probably would have handed Delphine a refund, but at this point the tag-team of Delphine and Khaldun were hardly giving the boy room to speak. While Khaldun was moving to inspire the crowd with his less-than-tasteful language, Delphine was hounding Derek until the poor guy was shrinking back uncertainly. "See, if I don't get a refund, we'll chase every single one of your customers away with tales of how you stick your hairy c**k into everyone's food." She pointed over her shoulder at Khaldun's back, who had just yelled out 'VIVA LA REVOLUCION!' It would have brought a smile to her face if she wasn't so determined to be a b***h to the cashier.
"O-of course we can give you a refund, but I can't give you m-more mon--" The teen stuttered uncertainly, probably realizing that he was going to get into a lot of trouble with his manager, and would likely get into more trouble if he handed Delphine an extra twenty out of his till.
"Yes, you will, or you'll lose more customers, who BRING in money." Delphine replied with a particularly menacing stare. A small family with young children were already peeling away from the line, most likely to salvage their children from being exposed to plethora of cussing and inappropriate language.
"Uhh, let me just get my manager..."
"No!" That was bad news. If someone who knew what they were doing stepped in, Delphine wouldn't get appropriate revenge for the desecration of her meal. "You and me can handle this." But, alas, Khaldun and Delphine had succeeded in making enough temporary chaos to get the Sacred All-Mighty Manager of ********' attention.
"What's the problem?" the even skinnier white boy, AKA: manager, asked.
"Someone shoved their c**k into my food, and won't give me a refund, nor a little extra on the side for being SO KIND as to not sue your asses or call the health department in for back-up." Delphine responded promptly.
"Me and my compadre are issuing an informal complaint."
This was how they were going to roll.
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Posted: Mon Mar 22, 2010 12:35 am
"s**t!"
Five minutes later, they had parked their asses on the curb halfway down the block, where it was bitterly cold out but at the very least not covered in dirty, slushy snow. Khaldun kicked an empty beer can into the street. Despite his rhetoric, he looked ecstatic. Causing a scene in public was apparently his idea of a good time. He was, after all, from Hillworth. "Son of a b***h, I didn't know they threw people out of ******** McDonald's. You'd think someone in that place would've had some sense when they heard about how all their food's been getting the postal worker d**k treatment from the kitchen. I thought you said it pretty loud, too, from up on the counter. Whatever. Serves them all right. Sucks they were too cheap to give you a refund."
In all the commotion, he'd lost his hairtie (or equally likely, he'd ditched it himself for appearances' sake), so his face was half-hidden behind a cascade of dreadlocks. His eyes remained fixed on the opposite side of the street for some time before he seemed to realize he was talking to a complete stranger, and on top of that, a complete stranger who was also a girl. A girl around his age. Glancing sideways at her, he wrapped his arms around his knees and leaned forward slightly for balance. "So, my name's Khaldun, unfortunately. You got a name, or...?"
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Posted: Mon Mar 22, 2010 11:10 am
She couldn't believe it. Well, she could, but it really only happened to people who, you know, did actual property damage. What kind of place actually cared for their workers? Delphine huffed softly, and folded her arms at her chest. The girl was wearing a navy, and relatively plain long-sleeved shirt, and it was crazy-a** cold outside. Alas, she had put her hoodie to a better use, which was making sure her a** didn't get wet or cold. She had plenty of hoodies at home, and her jeans were really too nice to ruin but a few days after she bought them. Sacrifices had to be made.
"I just wasted five bucks, five whole dollars, and didn't even finish my meal. ********. I'm eating exclusively at Burger King now. Take that McDonalds." She grunted to the boy sitting down next to her. At least she hadn't been kicked out alone, that would have been even more embarrassing. Delphine had some stranger to take the rise and the fall with her. Sure, he didn't look the least bit like a knight in shining armor (he looked like a hobo, really, he did), but appearances didn't matter when it came to friendship.
And getting kicked out of McDonalds together was a good enough cause to promote a stranger to friendship status. "No, I'm totally nameless," she snorted a half-laugh. "It's Delphine. I go to Crystal..." Which was entirely unsurprising.
"Hillworth, right?" which would be equally unsurprising.
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