Mr. One, Ms. Two, and Olivia Thorpe
Date: May 2, 2010
The Food Court has an unusual match
"Everything Goes To Hell"
The Mall Food Court
The Food Court.
Technically, this place should be in the Epic Fast Food Joints Hall of Fame. Considering that the entire place has been created to look like Wimbeldon or something close to that. The layout of the restaurant is very heavy on this 'tennis' theme, complete with little 'tennis courts' on each of the tables. There's even little plastic tennis rackets and balls for kids (and grown ups too!) to play with while they eat. Having cool mini-tennis nets are always a fun addition to any meal, right?!
Located near the back of the huge space, is the Order Counter. Here is where orders are taken and screwed up on a regular basis. There can be up to five separate lines at one time, but currently, working the register, right dead in the center of all the action, there is one man. One man that dares to share his geekdom with the world. One man that dares to rock the visor with no sense of pride in the least. One man that will… take your order.
"Hello. Welcome to the Food Court. How may I serve you?"
That completely and utterly dry statement comes from the lips of Archibald Wheeler. Reaching up to adjust his name tag, Wheeler looks absolutely thrilled to be here. NOT. Even though there are random tennis skirted females wandering around the restaurant doing all sorts of things for the patrons, which is why he is always getting distracted while trying to take orders. Because, hello, babes in tennis skirts. It's why he applied here in the first place!
That is happening right at this moment, to be exact. Which is why he cannot hear the order that's currently being placed by whomever is standing right in front of him. Some fat guy. Oh well. Back to the daydreaming…
"You've got to be kidding me, Hallis what have you been eating? No wonder you're getting as fat as Mitsy," comes the snotty voice of Olivia Thorpe. She's a caramel colored woman, tan and hair seem to blend as she breezes through the door of the fast food joint. The support she was supposed to give her friend is lost in the marvel of the place. "Is this like that mouse pizza place? But for wannabe tennis players?"
The sneer is apparent on her face as she bursts through the line, dragging the shorter and much paler blonde behind her. "You!" she says to the fat man ordering, "Go get a salad and get out of my way." Her commanding presence actually gives the man pause and he slinks away rather than get angry at the socialite. She could probably buy and sell him with a thought. "Do you have anything that isn't full of fat and carbs?" She directs to the man behind the counter, Wheeler.
Hallis is completely mortified, her blue eyes roll back in her head, she gives an apologetic smile to the fast foodie and points tot he menu. "We'll have a couple of waters and whatever that … Wimbleburger? No bun, and if you can grill it instead of fry it." Yes, there's a difference. "No mayo, no sauces, but we'll have extra lettuce and tomato. Wait… Does that come in grilled chicken?"
Starved. Completely and totally STARVED, Janet had found herself here — the best tasting food at the fastest possible speed. She'd ordered a meal deal. Burger, fries, drink. All fattening. All delicious. And all likely unapproved by her roommate who would likely reprimand her for consuming so many carbs (and fat) in one sitting. But she doesn't care, just can't make a habit of it.
She'd received her food some time ago, but she's been enjoying the tables and adventures they can create. Quietly she unwraps her burger and stares at it for a solid minute. It. Looks. Beautiful. BEAUTIFUL. With a large toothy grin she lifts the burger up to take a big juicy bite until —
"Janet~" the Mexican virtually sings.
Janet looks up to see Jorge Rodriguez; she frowns. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at home or something not working and making your mother cook for you? I mean, this is a loooong way from home and here you are… not eating…" she narrows her eyes suspiciously but forces a smile; she's officially lost her appetite.
Everything goes to hell in an eyeblink.
First the door opens, admitting a stocky Colombian man and a very pale, very petite woman. Both are wearing black suits, white shirts, and dark sunglasses. The man has a device in his hand that looks very much like a wireless router. The woman is carrying a bulky and impressive-looking shotgun, which she points at the ceiling and fires.
When the dust and the report clear from the air, the Colombian man steps forward, smiles, and spreads his hands disarmingly. "Hello," he greets the now-cowering crowd. His voice is rich and rumbling with a thick, pleasant accent. "I'm Mr. One, she is Ms. Two, and this is gadget is a cell phone jammer. Stay calm, stay still, and this will be brief and painless."
Wheeler is actually drawn out of his daydream by the words that come from the mouths of the two hotties that just busted in the line to get to him. He blinks, remembering a fat man being where they were just moments ago, but then he's not going to complain. There are ladies present. "Uhhh. That was… what did you want again? My phone number? I think that can be arranged." Ugh, the guy smells like fries, as he just kind of leans on the counter, while keying in the order with one hand. The visor is probably doing most of the blocking for him.
That's about when the door opens and there's all sorts of craziness going on. But for some reason, Wheeler is blinking wildly as he stares at the two people coming inside. Before they can even get fully in the door, his body jerks and both of his hands go over the counter, reaching to grab onto the tops of both Hallis and Olivia and he gives them both a hard yank, as he goes to duck himself beyond the counter. If clothes get torn or something, well, that's just going to be a bonus. Not to mention the fact that he might not be strong enough to pull them with him. Who knows. At least he's trying.
Shotgun blast of doom is what's heard next, but Wheeler is already making hidden tracks and trying to stay down as much as possible. And maybe, if he's lucky, he can cower with the two females behind the counter and not ever be noticed ever in the history of evers with a side of forever attached to it.
The boy behind the counter earns an incredulous look from Olivia, her raised eyebrows and the expression she gives him is a very silent "I don't think so." But then she's interrupted from a verbal lambasting of the presumptuous lad by the shotgun wielding woman and her Cuban counterpart. "Oh god… don't they have a boat to catch or something?"
Hallis' eyes widen and she shoots a glare to her friend, hissing at her to be quiet. Very slowly, she turns toward then and places her hands with her purchases behind her back. Even slower, she's pushing the smaller bags toward the boy behind the counter. They're full of jewelry purchases, no wonder she doesn't want them to get their hands on the bag.
On one hand, mouth agape, Janet freezes on command. She leaves her hands on the table and glances between Mr. One and Ms. Two in silence, refraining from saying or doing anything before ducking under it.
On the other hand, Jorge remains standing at the table he'd just approached. No, they weren't instructed to get down, but logic dictates that getting down is likely the most appropriate course of action. If Jorge's lack of job and living situation weren't enough to recommend himself to Janet, his lack of common sense here certainly does the trick.
Mr. One sets his cell jammer down at an empty table and draws a pistol from inside his jacket. "I don't see him," he says, narrowing his eyes. "One, keep an eye on things while I have a look around."
As ordered, Ms. One brandishes her shotgun and glowers at any would-be heroes. Were it not for her weapon and her mighty scowl, she'd probably be pretty. Auburn hair, pink cheeks, a dusting of freckles across her face.
BOOM! She fires at the ground, tearing a crater in the tile next to a man's foot. A man who has stayed standing when it would be smarter to hug the floor. "Sorry," she murmurs playfully. She has the smoky, husky voice of a much larger and more voluptuous woman. "Thought you were makin' a move."
"Okay, Wheeler. This is not good. This is really not good. Maybe you should've paid attention in those What To Do If You're Ever Robbed videos that they made us watch in orientation. Granted, the Princess Leia dream you had instead was totally worth it."
Looking from the left to the right and back to the left again, Wheeler just kind of realizes that he's got nowhere to go. Not that he knows what to do anyway. There's too much drama working in this damn fast food restaurant. Then he's blinking again, body tensing up for a moment, as he catches sight of the movements that he needs to catch sight of to know that his body needs to flatten against the floor right now. Which is what he does… placing his hand right in a splat of spilled ketchup. "Gross! Nobody ever cleans up down here!"
Wheeler realizes way too late that he probably just alerted the criminals to his secret presence and thus could be quite blowing his chances to be a hero. Or get the hell out of dodge. Whichever one was headed in his direction first.
"I think you're supposed to be quiet in situations like this." The whispering voice seems only inches away from Wheeler. Unnoticed, a man in a gray suit has crept up to share the hiding place. Despite their situation, he seems calm. Amused, even. He smiles crookedly and leans back against the counter. His hands are moving quickly, scooping up a piece of paper, folding it into a cone, and filling it with the contents of several hot sauce packets. "They're looking for someone," he observes. "I wonder who it is?"
The second gunshot definitely gets Olivia's attention as well as Hallis and they both drop to the ground just after Hallis gives the final shove to drop the bag on the other side of the counter. It lands in the mess with a soft thump. The two socialites make identical faces of disgust as they lower themselves to the floor, after all, that's what you're supposed to do in situations like this. Isn't it?
"Why aren't they calling the police?" Hallis whispers quietly to Olivia. "Don't they have some kind of silent alarm back there or something?"
Olivia just shrugs and looks over at Hallis, "I think he's busy peeing himself while we get shot and die. Thank god I got vajazzled the other day… I'd hate to think of what I'd look like in the morgue."
Jorge not only jumps but also whimpers as the shot is fired, he's completely unabashedly nervous. He drops to the ground, and spreads his arms out against the floor. His eyes clamp shut, completely expecting another bullet to come flying in his direction.
Crawling forward just a little, yet still protected by the table, she motions for Jorge to crawl under it, even if she doesn't particularly want to move from his spot on the floor. Unfortunately for Janet, situations that tend to create stress — like her neighbour almost getting a bullet in the foot — tend to produce very nervous, ridiculously fast chatter, "I'm so sorry and he's sorry and you can have anything you want here please take my purse — I don't have any money, but feel free to take it, oh and my earrings!" She reaches for her ears and tugs them down " — just please don't hurt anyone. Please. Please please please — " nope, the doctor isn't above begging. Her eyes are clamped shut now and her head is facing the floor.
With the ruckus of the second shotgun blast to mask any voices, Mr. One appears to have missed the conversation behind the counter. He disappears in the direction of the bathrooms first. Though he's out of sight, the sound of him opening doors, kicking his way into stalls, and generally making a mess is easy to hear.
Meanwhile, Ms. Two cackles aloud at the sight of Jorge's cowering. Janet's begging, on the other hand, doesn't seem to amuse her. She narrows her eyes and raises the shotgun, motioning as if to bring the butt crashing down for a blow. "Shh," she urges Janet. "Shush now. You're pretty, an' I ain't afraid to change that in a hurry."
"Um. Okay. First of all, MacGuyver, you're totally paying for all of those. Big Mitch left me in charge and if every packet isn't accounted for, I'm in bigger trouble than I'm in right now, so don't think you're getting away from here without forking over the cash." Wheeler is freaking out. He rambles when he's freaking out. It happens. "Secondly, while we're on the topic of forking things over. I'm not exactly sure who or what these crazy people could possibly want with anyone at the Food Court. Big Mitch is the most famous person we have and he's so much of an ex-New York Giant, he only played one game before hurting his ligatendon or something. I dunno the details, but I do know that if we don't get to a phone or something, all these people are going to die and I'm so gonna' get fired. I can't be fired. I've gotta' by the new Halo this week." Again with the rambling.
It takes him a moment to realize that he's probably been talking for a long time and what not. "Wait a second. How'd you get back here?" Wheeler narrows his eyes to peer at the suited man. "If you're back here hiding with me? Then that means…" Wheeler puts his own two and eight together and realizes that he's figured it out. And suddenly, he's popping up to his feet, raising his hands up and screaming.
"OH GOD DON'T SHOOT BUT THE GUY YOU'RE LOOKING FOR IS RIGHT HERE!"
Yes, cue the hands in the hair, but the pointing down behind the counter!
"No. No! SHH! You…" Porter lets out a WHOOSH of air as Wheeler stands up and gives away their already flimsy hiding spot. His cheeks puff up and he starts to move even faster on his preparations. "You're going to get us killed," he groans under his breath as he hooks his toe around a mop bucket and slides it closer. Then, as an afterthought, he tucks a stapler into his jacket pocket. "I'm going to die on domestic soil because of a spineless virgin. This sucks. This suuu-u-u-u-uuucks."
The foodie behind the counter calls attention to the counter and Olivia curls her arms over her head, "Hallis don't let them shoot me in the face! Anywhere but the face!" She's convinced that, yes, she is going to die. All because of some hairnet wearing geek. Life just can't be this horrible. Then she grabs onto Hallis and ducks behind her.
"No, I'm too pretty to die!" Hallis whimpers as attention is called in their direction, rather than giving them a view of her face as Olivia uses her as a meat shield, she turns her face to hide it in Olivia's shoulder. Both of the socialites huddle together in a little pile, Hallis not hugging Olivia quite as tight as Olivia is hugging her.
Jorge has now managed to soil himself. It really was bound to happen.
And Janet manages to shut up. For now. Again. Although her thoughts are traveling a mile a minute at this second. There really is nothing she can do and so she adjusts her position to one where she's sitting under the table hugging her knees to her chest, eyes shut tightly, powerless to do anything in this situation.
When Wheeler stands, Ms. Two spins around to cover him with her shotgun. She looks him up and down for a moment, then smiles like a hunting cat with a bird in her claws. Step by step, she stalks closer until her belly is pressed against the other side of the counter. She reaches across it, prodding Wheeler in the chest with the muzzle of her weapon. "Get out here, One," she calls to her partner. "I've got the geek. And you shut up," she hisses at the trembling girls.
There's a pause in the ruckus from the bathroom area, followed by the sounds of Mr. One checking the last few stalls. After all, it pays to be thorough in a hostage situation.
"Whoa whoa whoa and WHOA! Hold on there, Sister Act!" Wheeler is a little more freaked out as he's the one getting muzzle-poked by a freaking shotgun. "Remember how I said the guy you're looking for is right here? I didn't mean right here as in… right here, me. I meant, right here, as in… RIGHT HERE!" Again with the fingers pointing down to behind the counter. "I mean, seriously? Are you THAT BLIND?! I'm practically giving you his location and you're still missing my POINT!" And that's punctuated with another set of pointing down behind the counter! "Look, I know you must be having one of those long, hard days of being some kind of terrorist, but why don't I whip you and your boyfriend a couple of Courtside Smoothies. On the house. How's that sound? Good? Great." And he's already turning around to see if he can't reach for the smoothie cups without getting shot to hell.
Porter wets his lips with the tip of his tongue. He's carefully gauging location, distance, and trajectory, but in the end, a stunt like this all comes down to luck.
He snaps his foot out and kicks the handle of the mop he repositioned, forcing it into Ms. One's shotgun and knocking the weapon aside. After that, he's up in a flash and holding the narrow end of the prepared paper cone to his lips. He blows hard, spraying a gout of hot sauce into Ms. One's face. Then, unceremoniously, he picks up the phone from the counter and smacks her in the head with it. Before she hits the ground, Porter has vaulted over the counter and seized her in a choke hold from behind. He reaches into his pocket, grabs the stapler, and jams it into her side. "I've never been shot in the kidney," he says cheerfully. "But I hear it hurts."
Hallis is just too close to the action. As Porter leaps over the counter, she first screams, second winces, and third shuffles a half a foot away from him, trying to get as small as possible. She's really not one for bravado and besides, the man seems to know what he's doing without any help from anyone else.
Unlike her friend, Olivia has taken the opportunity to scramble well away from the woman with the gun. She find the closest table and cowers underneath it, quite pleased to leave Hallis to the mercy of their would be killers/kidnappers/robbers/whatever. She mouths a small 'Sorry' in the blonde's direction and gives her a helpless shrugs. One for all and all for one? Not in this group. More like one for all and all for me.
Janet stifles a scream at the commotion. She rocks herself under the table back and forth suppressing the urge to talk incessantly by clapping a hand over her mouth, however, she opens her eyes at the words about getting shot in a kidney. Slowly she creeps out from under the table and peers up at what's going on, but she stays low, murmuring to herself rather than to anyone else in case Porter turns out to be one of them, "That was so incredibly awesome — " her eyes are wide once again and her mouth is agape. " — I bet Iron Man would do that, or Batman. Yes. The Batman."
All this commotion brings Mr. One a-runnin'. He's back in seconds and leading with his pistol. He seems to have left his friendly smile in the bathroom. He skids to a halt when he spots his partner being strangled. "Porter," he growls, his teeth clenched. It would seem that these two know each other.
Two whimpers, but she doesn't struggle. Not with something that big pressed against the small of her back.
Wheeler is about to do some celebrating, when he can kind of tell that something's going down. His eyes flutter once again and his body jolts slightly, just as he shoves the cup underneath the Smoothie Machine and yanks down on the handle. Wheeler's spinning on his heels awkwardly, thanks to the ketchup and his slipping causes the smoothie cup to go flying out of his hand and off towards the face of the enemy with the gun! Of course, there's no witty banter to follow such an accidental attack, because he's too busy falling down to smash whatever's in the bags that were thrown back here!
Porter smirks when the smoothie splatters across Mr. One's face. "Nice move, Archie. Very ninja. What do you call that one?"
As he speaks, he draws the stapler from his pocket and clubs Ms. Two again, this time hard enough to send her crashing to the deck. Then he squints one eye shut, winds up like a pitcher at the plate, and wings the stapler at Mr. One's face.
If you've never heard the sound of nose breaking in a quiet room, it's loud. And gross.
Hallis is many things, unobservant when it comes to her own personal safety is not one of them. As she realizes that Hey, we're not being robbed, they're after one of these guys, she begins to move even further away. That is until she gets a little of the smoothie on her outfit. "DAMNIT!!" she roars, if it wasn't enough that it's probably stained with the shoe residue of a million mall going New Yorkers, that bit of fruit goo broke the straw on the camel's back.
Olivia can't help but laugh as she sees Hallis getting the splash back of the smoothie. It's safe to say that she's probably quite glad that she's not still with her.
"Ugh — was that really necessary —" Janet mumbles at the noise of the broken nose. She winces as she slides forward again. She's now out from under the table, but still low to the ground. Her eyes glance up towards Porter as she continues to slide towards the door and then something tugs at her conscience. "Darn medical profession," she murmurs to herself as she slides back towards the counter. The woman with the broken nose may need attention and she won't be looking pretty; ironic considering the threat she'd made to the doctor.
"What do I call it?" Wheeler is getting himself up off the floor. Not only does his side hurt from landing on a DIAMOND, but he's also got ketchup all over himself. "I call it…" And even his visor is crooked. "GET THE F OUT MAN!" Wheeler is waving his hands around wildly, as if he's not sure of what in the heck should be happening right now. "Somebody call the cops so I can get this place cleaned up before Big Mitch gets back." Wheeler is freaking out about all the craziness that just happened and is currently trying to adjust his visor back to the way it was. Either way, it's not styling too much and he hasn't even begun to think about what repercussions may be coming from the socialite that got Smoothie'd.
"No, no, no." Porter says to Wheeler. He crosses his arms over his chest. "Forget about cleaning up. You and your stupid hat are coming with me. Or would you rather wait around for those two to wake up? Maybe see what they wanted with you?" He extracts one hand and chucks a thumb over his shoulder toward the unconscious bad guys. "The girl's kind of cute, if you like it rough."
"We're alive! Hallie! We're alive!" Olivia gasps as the whatever-he-is takes out both of the bad guys at once. She quickly crawls out from under the table and takes the first place in line as though absolutely nothing happened. "Helloooooo~ Food Guy, I think we've waited long enough for our order. And I need the name of your manager, you're really horrible at this whole customer service thing. I could have been killed!"
Hallis is still on the floor and trying to wipe off the smoothie from her outfit. Slowly, she scrambles to a stand and looks over the counter for her bag. Janet's got one of the bad guys well under control and Olivia? Well… Turning to her friend, she knits her eyebrows into a confused expression and wrinkles her nose a little in thought. "I got a smoothie all over me, almost lost a fake engagement ring, and you're worried about food? Seriously?!" She looks like she's either battling tears or ont he verge of a meltdown. Instead, she composes herself and turns down a different route altogether. "So, you really got vajazzled? What's that like? You think I should do it?"
Finally standing to her feet, Janet walks over to the baddies after glancing at Porter and then Wheeler and back again, before pressing two fingers to each of the baddies necks to check for vitals as she does so, however, she's freaking out, "OHMYGOSH, did that seriously just happen?!!!! I can't believe that actually happened in the middle of the freakin' Food Court seriously teach me to never ever ever ever ever ever ever eat a burger again. Ever." Her eyes tear up as she goes about her work. "Seriously — someone needs to call EMS we need a police officer or something — it's really really really important — YOU, ohmygosh, Hallis" the pair had met at a bar a month earlier "call now — they need to be taken into proper custody and dealt with — and they could still be really dangerous even after Batman there took care of him. Seriously. Seriously."
"Wait wait wait! Hold on a second!" Wheeler holds his hands up and just tries to calm everybody down. "Everyone needs to leave in a single file line, so the authorities can get in here and do their thing. But! Nobody move yet!" Wheeler is hopping over the counter top, before reaching back over to grab the bag and then holding it out towards Hallis. The requests for food from Olivia get ignored. "Did nobody see me smoothie that dude? Seriously? He's Batman and I'm what? Aquaman?" Yes, he's actually upset about that. He should get a couple of props.
But in the next moment, he's looking over at Porter and looking more confused than anything. "Man, I don't know who you are or what you're talking about. I'm just Archie Wheeler, Food Court Guru. I'm not trying to get involved in no craziness. My life is simple. It needs to stay that way." Wheeler just kind of gives a nod after his statement. "Besides. I have a date!"
Porter bends low, scoops up the stapler, and hands it to the doctor. "Here you go, love. If he moves, you bonk him with this. You're awfully brave for coming over here and taking care of business. I like that in a woman. Here, take one of these. That's my card." He smiles winningly.
He's back at Wheeler's side a half-second later. "Call Of Duty is not a date. You. Are coming with me. Now. Understood?" He smiles again, but this time there's nothing friendly about the expression. "Think of it this way. If I can do that to them…" he trails off and nods to the downed thugs.