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In the town of Hope there were only five places of note: The Hopeland Catholic Church—which doubled as an orphanage—the gun range down the road, the pub just across from that, a university that’s technically an hour and a half outside of town, and a McDonalds. It was that fifth and final location that the pair of university students, Meryl Stryfe and Milly Tompson found themselves entering for their first day of work.
“Oh boy,” said Milly as she practically skipped with each step, “Our first job, isn’t it exciting Meryl?”
Meryl rolled her eyes. “It’s fast food Milly, it’s not exactly the most thrilling way to spend my weekends.”
“Oh don’t be that way, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of fun,” Milly beamed. “I just hope our coworkers are nice.”
A dry voice came from their left. “God, I hope so too.”
The two girls turned, half startled by the stranger they’d somehow failed to notice sooner. He was a tall, slightly tan man with nearly jet black eyes and hair. A cigarette dangled from his mouth as he swept the floor.
“Oh, Hello mister!” Milly waved exuberantly, “sorry, we didn’t see you there!”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” the man smiled back, “name’s Nicholas D. Wolfwood, but most people call me Nick. You must be the newbies.”
“Yes we are! My name’s Milly Thompson and my friend here is Meryle Stryfe. Pleasure to meet you Mr. Wolfwood!” said Milly as she shook the man’s hand.
“Nice to meet you” said Meryl, her eyes lingering on the cigarette still held between Nicholas’ lips “I don’t think you’re allowed to do that in here.”
“No, I suppose you’re right,” Nicholas chuckled to himself as he stamped out what was left of the cigarette on the linoleum floor. In one swift motion he swept the flattened carcinogen into the trash before glancing around the empty McDonalds, “See no evil, speak no evil.”
“Is it just you here?” Milly asked.
“Nah, hang on.” Nicholas looked behind the front counter. “Oi, Needle Noggin’! Quit screwin’ with the ice cream machine and come say hi to the newbies!” Nicolas shouted.
There was a blur of red and yellow as some shape leapt over the front counter, running full tilt toward the new girls. Unfortunately for the brightly coloured shape, its foot managed to find a patch of unmarked wet floor, slid for a good two metres before careening directly into Nicholas, knocking the both of them on their asses. Milly couldn’t help but laugh at the two men, now tangled in a heep. Although, for Meryl, this was confirmation that she probably wouldn’t survive the next eight hours.
“Christ’s sake Blondie! Watch where you’re goin’ will ya’?”
“Sorry Nick,” said the shape as he stood, “guess I got a little excited.”
Now that Meryl could properly make him out, was a handsome young man with possibly the dumbest hairstyle she’d ever seen, on account of how it stood straight up. It looked more like the head of a broom than anything else.
Nicholas pulled himself up, “Millie, Meryl, this is Vash, our Humanoid Typhoon.”
“Plesure to meet you Mister Typhoon!” Milly said as she vigorously shook Vash’s hand, arm, and the rest of his body.
“Jeez Nick, you know I hate that nickname,” Vash decried.
“It is accurate though” replied Nicolas.
Vash extended his hand to Meryl “You two can just call me Vash.”
Meryl shook Vash’s hand graciously, though thought that there was an oddly rubbery texture to it, before she suddenly felt it get much heavier. For a moment she thought Vash had managed to slip again but he was still standing right in front of her, a dopey grin plastered on his face. When she looked down she noticed he was suddenly short an arm, his left arm, the arm Meryl was now holding. Meryl yelped, tossing the severed arm into the air, which slapped against the ceiling before falling gracefully into Vash’s remaining hand.
On closer inspection the arm was evidently a prosthetic with a fairly well done silicone hand. In one swift motion Vash slotted the arm back into place.
“Let me know if you ever need a hand with anything,” He said, with a wink.
Nicholas rolled his eyes. “You girls will be working the registers, you good with that?”
“I think we can handle that,” said Meryl with misplaced confidence.
“Oh absolutely,” said Milly, “ and um… where do we get our uniforms?”
“Oh, those are in the storage room, next to the burger plants,” said Vash as he turned to lead them.
“... The what?” Meryl asked.
“The burger plants,” Vash repeated as if that meant anything.
“He means the grill,” Nicholas clarified. “Manager makes us call everything a plant.”
“Why?” Meryl was even more confused than before.
“He’s vegan,”
***
The morning went by fast. Dozens of faces came and went as Meryl and Milly struggled to wrap their heads around the countless buttons in front of them. Each one had their own special inputs and was helplessly outdated to the point where getting an order right was more of an act of faith than skill. All things considered, however, the girls had managed to hold themselves together pretty well. That is, until lunch rush rolled around.
Meryl had never seen so many hungry, angry people before in her life. The orders flew at her from every direction like a torrent, each syllable threatening to blow her over. I am strong, Meryl thought to herself, I can handle this. Just a few more hours and–
“Meryl…” a familiar whimper broke Meryl’s train of thought.
Meryl looked to the other end of the counter where Milly's line had grown out of control, each face in it getting progressively more and more incensed. At the front were two men. One was a short, weaselly looking old man, and the other was a bulbous headed giant of a man. The old man stood proudly, endlessly barking at Milly as she looked helplessly at Meryl. Barely thinking Merly moved over to Milly’s register to see what was going on. That’s when horror struck her. On Milly’s till was a seemingly endless number of items, totaling to a bill of over sixty billion dollars, and the old man was still ordering.
“And then I’ll need thirty seven milk shakes, twelve happy meals, five number four combos, four number five combos, ten packs of ten chicken nuggets, yes they have to be individually packaged, eight more happy meals, an iced tea–”
“Sir, you cannot possibly be serious,” Meryl interrupted.
“Not serious? Do you know who I am? You best not trifle with the Nebraska family, little missy!” Shouted Mr. Nebraska.
“Who’s even going to eat all that?” Meryl asked.
“Well the McChicken and iced tea is for me and the rest is for my son Gofsef,” He said, pointing to the giant next to him who was at least twice his size.
“Gofsef,” said Gofsef.
“He’s a growing boy you know,” Nebraska said with a nod.
“What is wrong with the people here?” Meryl muttered to herself.
“What was that?” Nebraska barked, “You’re going to have to speak up there little missy.”
“My name’s Meryl, and if you’re done ordering, your bill comes out to sixty billion the hundred ninety million two hundred twenty thousand forty nine dollars and thirty seven cents.” The entire building went dead silent as those words left her mouth.
“Sixty billion dollars? That’s ridiculous!” shouted Nebraska, launching the cacophony of the McDonalds back into motion.
“Yeah, well that’s what happens when you order over a billion items,” said Meryl, “I don’t even know how you didn’t pass out listing it off.”
“This cannot stand, I demand to see your manager!” cried Nebraska.
“Sure, you’ll just have to move so the line can–”
“Absolutely not,” Nebraska said, stamping his foot on the ground.
Meryl groaned, gave Milly a quick look of encouragement and darted to the kitchen to find Nicholas. She found him flipping burgers, yet another cigarette in his mouth.
“Hey,” Meryl said. “Some prick at the front wants to talk to the manager.”
“Okay.” Nicholas’ eyes were still glued to the grill.
“So… where is he?” Meryl asked.
“Out.”
“What do you mean ‘out’?”
“I don’t know,” said Nicholas, finally looking up from the grill. “He’s just not here.”
“Perfect, now what?”
“Could ask the acting manager.”
“And that is?”
“Vash.”
Meryl paused. “Vash?”
“Yep.” Nicholas nodded.
“Who the hell put him in charge?”
“The manager,” Nicholas sighed.
“Great,” Meryl rolled her eyes, “and would you put that thing out?”
Nicholas obliged, stomping on the cigarette as Meryl turned to the other side of the kitchen.
There Vash stood, half hunched, palms and forehead pressed against the out-of -order ice cream machine. He quietly muttered something along the lines of “I know, I know, it’s been a hard week, but I know you can do it, just tough it out a few more days and we can get someone in to repair you properly…”
“What are you doing?” Meryl asked, half-startling Vash out of his stupor.
“Nothing!” Vash exclaimed. “What, um… what do you need?”
“Remember how you said to ask if I needed a hand with anything?” Meryl hesitated.
“Of course!” Vash grinned.
“Someone asked for the manager.”
Vash took a deep breath in, as though this were the most meaningful thing he’d ever been asked to do in his life, and marched his way to the front desk with Meryl hot on his heels.
What greeted the two of them was a scene even worse than when Meryl had left only a few moments ago. Not only had the customers grown even more irate, but Mr. Nebraska was actively blocking them from reaching the register. Meanwhile, Gofsef had managed to pry open the display case for the happy meals toys and was attempting to grab as many as he could. Milly was practically sobbing as she tried to wrestle back the handful of toys Gofsef had pulled free.
“Ah, mister Nebraska!” Vash’s voice was drowned out by the commotion. “MISTER NEBRASKA!” Vash’s cry broke through the crowd like a fog horn and for a moment everything was still. Except for the toys Gofsef quickly dropped to the ground.
“Oh, not you again,” Nebraska groaned.
“Didn’t we ban you from here?” Vash said, the way a mother scolds a child with their hand in a cookie jar.
“You can’t ban someone from a McDonalds!” cried Nebraska.
“I meant the town—”
“Same difference!”
“Listen,” Vash said calmly, “why don’t you put the Happy Meal Toys back and we can sort out a nice meal for you and your… son?”
“As if! We were only in it for the happy toys anyway!” Nebraska cackled. “Gofsef, exit strategy, now!”
In one swift motion Gofsef snatched up the toys from the ground with one arm and a chair with the other before hurling the chair at Vash and Meryl.
Meryl’s life flashed before her eyes. All those years she’d spent prepping to be a journalist, the sudden shift to studying accounting because boy did journalists not get paid enough, and now, here, killed by a flying chair in a McDonalds in the middle of nowhere. She was so lost in these thoughts that she failed to realise she was now several feet from where she’d been standing, held safely under Vash’s good arm.
The moment of shock passed. “Hey, put me down you creep!”
“Whoops, sorry!” Vash smiled as he set her down, before looking to the fleeing Nebraskas “Now, for you two.”
In a flash Vash leapt onto Gofsef’s broad back, reaching for the stolen toys. However, just as quickly as he’d landed, he was snatched off and driven into a table.
“Hey, careful there, don’t want anyone getting hurt,” Vash said, still pinned to the table before he noticed the silicon texture of the hand Gofsef had gripped him by. “Hey, is that a prosthetic?”
“Gofsef,” said Gofsef.
“Wow, that’s so cool, I’ve got one of those too!” Vash raised his left hand. “How’d you get it to grip like tha–”
“Gofsef! Now is not the time for chatting! Dispose of the vagrant!” Nebraska ordered.
“Gofsef,” said Gofsef.
“Yes, I’m sure he’s very nice, now get rid of him!”
Gofsef hoisted Vash up with one hand, rearing back to throw him through a window, when the voice of Milly Tompson echoed from the other side of the McDonalds.
“Put Mr. Vash down!” Milly cried as she hurled the same chair Gofsef had thrown only a few moments before back at him. Unfortunately, though it was a strong throw, her aim was a good foot to the left of her mark. Fortunately, Mr. Nebraska was a good foot to the left of Gofsef. The chair collided with Nebraska’s head with a resounding smack, knocking him out instantly, before smashing its way through the glass door at the front of the restaurant.
***
It took twenty minutes for the police to arrive to take Gofsef and Mr. Nebraska away. Thankfully, Gofsef had lost any interest in fighting when his father got knocked out cold by a flying chair. In the meantime, Vash kept an eye on the two of them while talking with Gofsef about how his prosthetic worked. Meryl wasn’t sure how Vash understood what he was saying when his vocabulary was limited to ‘Gofsef’, but she hardly had time to ask. Thankfully, the rest of Milly and Meryl’s shift went by without a hitch. Before they knew it, the sun had begun to set on the horizon.
Meryl was sitting on the curb outside the Mcdonald’s waiting for Milly to pull her car around when Nicholas stepped out through the shattered glass doorway beside her.
“Hey newbie, how was your first day?” He said, lighting yet another cigarette.
“Meryl,” she said, “my name’s Meryl.”
“Sorry, I’ve gotta get at least one day of hazing in before you get your bearings here,” Nicholas chuckled.
“This was possibly the worst day of my life,” she said, staring at the orange glow of dusk that washed over the town.
“Welcome to customer service little lady–Meryl,” Nicholas paused, “At least we got to close early on account of the, you know, glass.”
“Which would make this our last day too, probably,” Meryl sighed.
“You sound disappointed,” Nicholas raised an eyebrow.
“I really needed the money. Milly too.”
“Ey, I wouldn’t worry about it, Vash told me he’d smooth it over with the boss when he got back,” Nicholas said, a half smile coming on.
“He did?” Meryl was shocked.
“Oh yeah, he’s used to taking the blame for this kind of stuff. Might even need another nickname at this point. Maybe something like ‘Vash the Stampede’ you know, cause his name is french for–”
Meryl stood straight up and rushed by Nicholas and peered through the door to the McDonalds, it was dark.
“Vash?” Meryl called hesitantly.
“Yeah?” Vash poked his head out from a corner, Meryl jumped.
“Oh, um… Nicholas said you were going to try to keep me and Milly on.”
“Oh definitely, I’m closing tonight, so I should see the boss when he gets back. I wouldn’t worry about it he’s a real softy.” Vash said with another patently silly smile on his face.
“Okay, great, um… thank you, this means a lot,” said Meryl as Milly pulled up behind her.
“Any time,” said Vash.
“Right… bye,” Meryle turned and jumped into Milly’s car. Milly waved goodbye to Vash and Wolfwood as they drove past, nearly hopping the curb on their way out.
“I think she likes me,” said Vash.
“You think everyone likes you,”
“You like me, Nick.”
“Whatever you say, Blondie.”
“Oh don’t be like that Nico, you know I like you!” Vash stared at the back of Wolfwood’s head with the kind of puppy dog eye he could feel without even looking.
“I’m leaving,” Nicolas stamped out his cigarette.
“You’ve got to say it back now, Nico!” Vash called as Nicholas walked to his motorcycle, “It’s just three words Nick… Nico… Nico-ni… Nick Knack… I know you can do it!”
“Goodnight Needle Noggin’,” Wolfwood said before riding off, a plume of smoke behind him.
“Yeah, he likes me” Vash said.
He was correct.
***
It was an hour later when Vash heard someone step through the hole where the front door used to be.
“What the hell happened here, Vash?” came an all too familiar voice.
“Nai, you’re back! I was getting worried!” Vash rushed out to meet his brother, who was a near carbon copy of him save for his much shorter hair and his spotless, all white attire.
“Answere the question, Vash,” Nai ordered.
“The Nebraska family came to town, caused some trouble. Nobody got hurt though,” Vash explained.
“And the new hires? How’d they handle it?”
“Great! Passed with flying colours!” Vash felt a bead of sweat form on his head. He’d never been very good at lying and Nai could always tell.
“Hm.” Nai thought for a moment. “Glad to hear it. They’re scheduled again for tomorrow right?”
“Yes, but I thought may they deserve a day off considering–”
“We’ll need extra hands to put in a temporary replacement door,” Nai said pensively. “Plus, I’d like to see their handy work myself.”
“Right, great idea boss, I’ll um… I’ll let them know.”
“Oh and Vash.” Nai walked over to place a hand on Vash’s shoulder. “It was nice talking to you.”
“Yeah, nice talking to you too, Nai.” Vash said as he turned to go, leaving Nai alone in the only McDonalds in Hope.
“By the way, the ice-cream plant is broken.”