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The eternity of waiting, of battling demons inside and out, of fighting, loving and losing, had converged to this single moment. A proverb once gave greater weight to the “journey” than the “destination.” But the journey would be devoid of meaning were it not for this climactic finale. One final barrier lay between them and the promised gold. They rolled one final step forward, and the hero at the head of the party dropped his shield of glass, a golden sunlight pouring inside. He took a deep breath, his lungs filling with a crisp autumn air. Then a voice called from amidst the breeze, a seraph beckoning them to the other side.
“Welcome to McDonald’s, how may I help you?”
Jake cleared his throat and prepared to shout the order. Any attempt at hearing was rendered rather difficult by the great cacophony of chaotic conversation from the passengers in the back of the car—mostly from Gamzee and Nepeta, more accurately, as the Mayor wedged between them maintained a noble silence. He was a pretty cool guy, Jake thought.
“Could I get a...” Jake started, but stopped himself with a startling realization: In the five minutes they’d spent waiting, no one had decided what they were actually ordering. He drew his head back inside the car and asked the others, “What do you want?”
Gamzee spoke up first. “I'll have a slice of cheese,” he said with clown-like cordiality. Whatever that meant.
Seeing no problem at all with the request, Jake relayed the message to the employee over the intercom.
The man was quiet for a moment, perhaps musing over the concept of clown-like cordiality himself. Finally, he questioned with an inexplicable hesitance, “Just a slice, with nothing else?”
“Yes, that sounds right!” Jake affirmed chipperly.
“Okay, um… do you want a drink to go with that?”
Jake asked Gamzee if he would want a drink to go with that. Faygo, Gamzee said. They probably don't have faygo, Jake said. I don't care then, Gamzee said. Okay then, Jake said. Water is fine, Gamzee said.
“One water, please!” Jake announced. The screen to the side of the car flashed as the order updated. Cheese and water. What a delightful meal!
“Anything else?”
Jake moved on to Nepeta. “Anything you would like?”
The cat-troll purred in deep contemplation. “Fourteen cookies!” she decided, bouncing excitedly as she did. What a splendid attitude! Then she added, “Ooh, and an iced tea! With sugar. Extra sugar. Maybe just a cup of sugar, actually.”
Jake stuck his head back out the window. “Ah, yes. Could I add fourteen cookies to the order? And, ah, a cup of tea. Or maybe sugar.”
There was no audible response this time; the screen flashed once more.
“Alright, Mayor! Anything you’d like?”
The Mayor leaned close to Nepeta. She nodded in earnest understanding as if he offered some profound wisdom, though Jake was not certain he was speaking any words at all. They finally pulled away, and Nepeta preached the wisdom forth. “:33 < He wants one independence cookie!”
Jake had absolutely no idea how she’d managed to verbalize the characters in that statement, nor what the statement was supposed to even mean. But he had a responsibility, a mission, and he was not about to let his companions down, so he unquestioningly brought the message to the employee. “He says he wants one ‘independence cookie.’ So, add another cookie, I suppose.”
A peculiar, muffled sound emerged from the speaker. In another context, it might have been a sigh, or a deep breath, or even a broken man’s desperate attempt to suppress a hollow sob. But that obviously did not describe the employee. The shenanigans that transpired through the transaction were of an ordinary, non-man-breaking nature. It could only be an indication of great amusement, then. A certain warmth filled Jake’s chest at that thought; they’d brightened a person’s day. But alas, even the purest splendor needed to end. Jake then realized the great paradox of journeying—that “end” is a merciless, sudden thing, that one cannot perceive “end” until it has eclipsed their path. Perhaps that was not such a tragedy. “End” is harmless if one lives in the moment.
There was no journey or destination. The destination was a journey in itself, a continuous path to reflect the insatiable conquest of mankind, troll-kind, and every kind of kind between. Jake wiped a stray tear from his cheek. With a newfound pride granting strength through tribulation, he concluded the order:
“And one quarter-pound cheeseburger!”