Work Text:
"Uh, um.... Uh, Dave?"
You are Dave Strider, and this morning has been long, and tiring, and full of a lot of lifting this goddamn troll's heavy wheelchair up onto curbs. You're getting tired of it and you suspect that you might look just a little less cool than you are while you are doing it.
But because looks don't matter when you are a chill Strider, you turn your chill, cool self around to see what the problem is.
You realize you have left Tavros Nitram, an extraterrestrial thirteen year old (they don't count in years where Tavbro is from, but you don't really give a shit) on the other side of the ring-a-ding, smudged up glass door to your favorite fast food joint. He is hunched over a little, avoiding the stares of the family of four behind him, who seem to think he is wearing a funny costume for some convention. Joke's on them, the suckers, but it's better that way.
Anyway, you guess you should feel sort of crummy since you forgot to hold the door open for your buddy. Sure, he keeps stuttering and asking stupid questions about earth things (what does he mean "what is a frisbee for") and freaked the hell out when that dog came up to him, but he's a cool bro in his own way.
You, Dave Strider, pull the door open. "Sorry, Tav." You offer an apology where it's due and walk inside while Tav wheels- one of the cool things about this bro of yours is that he doesn't complain 'bout his circumstances and keeps his chin up- and stand in line.
"This," you gesture upward at the glorious light up display of plastic and pictures that is the combo menu. "Is the whole fuckin' shebang, Tavros Nitram. This stuff here is why earthlings young and old alike come to throw their money at this establishment like so many shit wielding apes at middle aged tourists." whoops, nasty metaphor, "This is the quarter pounder, the Big Mac, the double cheeseburger. This is the chicken mcnugget, the mcflurry. This is Earth Fast Food."
Apparently awed by your amazing speech, or maybe how slow the line is moving, or the overwhelming smell of grease, fried food and ice cream, or any combination of those things, Tavros stares at the menu board like a deer at approaching brights. Shit, that was another bad one. You're off your game today, you guess. Must be the sudden physical presence of a bullhorned alien with a cute babyface.
Jade said that, not you. You would never say sappy shit like that.
"What, uh," Tavros finally speaks again "What do you think, uh, I would, uh, I mean should, eat?"
This isn't your usual McD's, and the chick at the register is considerably perkier than the one at your usual place. Not melt your teeth perky, thank god and whatever other deity you can- like yourself, ha- just like she appreciates that she's earning decent money for college and gets along with her coworkers or something, and mayber her manager isn't a total dick. She hasn't even snapped at you to order yet, or asked about Tavros' appearance. Maybe this was worth the walk.
"You're a beginner." You say, putting all your junk food guru skills to the test, "All the good stuff for you is different, so we'll go easy and start you off with ten mcnuggets and some fries. Of course, that wouldn't be complete without a drink. so you have to get a soda too. We've been outside all day and it's fucking hot out there."
"That, uh, sounds fine, I, uh, guess. Thanks, Dave."
You order your usual, a double cheeseburger and a large order of fries, because a man has to have his deep fried potatoes and monopoly is on right now.
Since people are staring- asshole nosy plushrumps- you let Tavros take the tray and, like the fucking dapper gentleman you are, in your converse and your cargo pants, you wheel him to an out of the way table in a corner, next to tall divider. The only people there to bother you are an old dude and his really little granddaughter, whose face is covered in ketchup. That's kind of sweet, accept for the terrible table manners.
The first order of business is to get rid of one of those damn rude chairs. Getting in the way of Tavros, who needs to sit at the table- damn rude, you think, and you pick it up and set it at another table, with other chairs, where it belongs.
Once all the food is laid out you open wit the proper ceremony- so, just really slowly- the box of mcnuggets. You like to imagine that somewhere up in troll heaven the troll angels are singing a troll heavenly chorus for this event and only Tavbro can hear them, because only he is a troll, and only he is experiencing the greasy, salty glory of chicken nuggets for the first time.
He certainly looks like he's hearing troll angels.
"Dave, uh, what is this?"
He picks a batter encrusted chunk of meat up with two gray fingers and turns it over.
"That, my sweet bro, is the phenomenon we earth people call the chicken mcnugget. Made from that bird we showed you. The one we eat, the one that clucks, the one that runs around with its head cut off. The one that is delicious when fried, grilled, dipped in batter."
Tavros makes some kind of guttural sound between a purr and a trill. It's fucking weird, but the way the troll body works- from what you know of- it's basically just a big fucking 'ooooooooooooooooooooooh!' An expression of pure awe at how amazing this concoction is.
"It's also your lunch." You add, just for the kicks of irony.
You offer him some ketchup. He at least knows vaguely what that is; Alternia seems to have alternatives to grub sauce, thank god, although most of them seem to at least involve one kind of animal juice or another. Trolls are carnivorous by nature- sharp teeth, nasty attitudes, you were never that surprised- so they need the fucking stuff to maintain a healthy diet.
On a lucky note though, they don't mind eating plants once in a while. Mostly for dessert. You haven't had to splurge on steak constantly since Tavros came to visit.
"This is, uh, really good, Dave" Tavros manages to splutter this through healthy mouthfuls of mcnugget phenomenon as the two of you begin eating. Your bite into your cheeseburger with ironic dignity and nod. Damn right it's really good. It's fucking amazing. Maybe not healthy, sure, but you haven't had a real cheeseburger since all this sburb shit started, and that feels like years ago now. It probably was, mentally, but the thing to worry about now is this amazing cheeseburger, those amazing mcnuggets, and the awesome bro who is enjoying the awesome meal you are treating him to.
When you head back up to the counter later to buy a bunch of apple pies for dessert, you finally remember how Rose teased you over the phone about the date-ish note of this outing and your "uncharacteristic enthusiasm."
Man, she is full of bullshit even if she is your ectosister.
You ironically ignore the uncharacteristically weird dubstep thing your heart does on your way back to the table, while Tavros is smiling at you and excitedly asking you what those things are and why they smell so good, and remind yourself that you are too cool to be toppled off balance by puberty or crushes.
You are, after all, a phenomenon. Kind of like a chicken mcnugget.