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Ever since the large influx of toons suing the ACME corporation, the law firm Avery, Jones, and Maltese has been inundated with endless calls and claims waiting to be filed.
Sal had just finished a call on his headset before another line began ringing immediately. “Thank you for calling Avery Jones and Maltese. How can I help you today?”
Dottie sat across the room, answering calls nonstop as well. Meanwhile, Kevin took a long sip from his coffee mug in his office before the door suddenly flung open.
“Mr. Avery, you have a visitor,” Paige interrupted with a bubbly voice.
“Sure, let him in,” he gestured without looking up.
She stepped aside to let the beloved prairie wolf enter through the door. Then, his intern waved goodbye and quietly closed the door behind them, giving the two some privacy. He dusted off some rubble from his fur before holding out a paw.
“Ah, Mr. Coyote! Good to see you again!” Kevin greeted, giving the coyote a firm handshake.
Wile E. then whipped out a sign to greet him back with a wide grin.
NICE TO SEE YOU TOO
He chuckled lightly. “Well, I’m happy to hear that.”
Suddenly, the coyote’s stomach growled fiercely, and he dropped his sign, covering his underbelly bashfully with both arms. Kevin's grin was quickly wiped off his face, and he looked down at the sheepish coyote, examining his scrawny physique.
“Still haven’t caught Road Runner yet, huh?” he asked with a slight frown.
Coyote shook his head in shame.
This reminded Mr. Avery of the blueprint plan he discovered where the final step was “Me and Kevin eat together.” Since Road Runner was off the menu, Kevin pondered to himself how to fulfil this stage until a bright idea crossed his mind.
“Well, good thing you came here just in time,” Kevin said encouragingly, rubbing his hands together. “It is lunch break, so, tell you what. I know this new place where we can get some, let’s say, bird meat.”
Wile E.’s ears perked up, and pictures of roasted turkey dinged in his eyes, licking his watering lips.
“Come along, I’ll take you there,” he gestured to the door, giving the coyote a nice pat on the back.
“Here we are!” he announced.
Wile E. sat in the passenger seat, tapping his feet excitedly while Kevin made a right to their destination, pulling into the drive-thru. The driver peered through the windshield, noticing a chicken mascot displayed on the lawn with the name attached.
“Hermanos Chicken? Ah, how cute,” Kevin sighed innocently.
There was practically no line in front of them, and they stopped the car in front of the giant menu.
Soon, a deep voice began crackling from the intercom. “Hi, welcome to Pollos Hermanos. What can I get for you today?”
“Yeah, hi, can I get a 12-piece bucket?” Kevin spoke into the speaker.
“Did you want it as a meal?”
The smug coyote pulled out a sign, and Kevin read it aloud. “À la carte, please.”
“And did you wanna add a side of our special ‘Big Blue Ranch’ with that?”
He looked over at Wile E., who gave him a quick nod of approval.
“Sure, why not?” he answered with a hearty chuckle. “As long as it comes free of charge.”
A long, uncomfortable silence followed.
The duo waited nervously and wondered what was the holdup until the attendant responded, “Second window, please.”
Five minutes later, they received their chicken, and Mr. Avery pulled into a parking space, shifting the gear to park. Once he turned off the engine, he turned and saw the coyote with a handkerchief tied around his neck along with a fork and knife in both hands.
Kevin blinked. “Okay…you came prepared, huh?”
Wile E. licked his lips with delight, holding out his utensils in preparation.
“Okay, let’s see what we got here,” he muttered to himself, digging through the plastic bag.
First, he pulled out the side of ranch, which was stored in all its 16 oz Styrofoam glory. “Wow, they give you a whole cup and everything!”
After placing it in the cupholder, he removed the large paper bucket from the bag next. He opened the lid, releasing its aromatic scent of herbs and spices throughout the vehicle, and Wile E. took a whiff. He raised an eyebrow when he realized this smelled nothing like the bird meat that he was promised earlier.
“Look, I know this may not be the exact poultry that you were expecting, but this is the best I can offer here,” he explained.
Before the bearded man could dig in, Wile E. leaned in with his sharp utensils while Kevin watched with amusement.
“Hold on! In here, we use our hands,” he said, grabbing a drumstick and taking a big, demonstrative bite. “Mmm! This one’s my favorite!”
He sniffed it before taking a tiny, skeptical nibble, chewing on a stringy piece of meat. Wile E. furrowed his brow, judging its peculiar taste before swallowing. He tossed the crumbly remains back into the bucket, wiped his greasy paws on his chest, and gave Kevin a swift thumbs down.
“Oh, you didn’t like it?” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair. I know there’s better chains than…”
Wile E. whipped out another sign from behind his back with a frown.
ROAD RUNNER TASTES BETTER
Kevin nearly spat out his chicken right onto the dashboard. “What?! What are you talking about? Fried chicken is basically the same as bird meat!”
He pulled out another sign from his other hand.
DON’T CARE
Wile E. then flipped the sign over.
EVER TASTED A ROAD RUNNER RECIPE?
“No! How would I…okay,” Kevin threw his hands up in the air. “I know I never tried one, but do you realize how spoiled you sound right now?”
Wile E. ignored him with a look of disapproval and reached back for some tools from hammerspace. Before Kevin could even blink, the coyote stuffed a stick of ACME dynamite inside the chicken bucket, preparing to strike a match against the paper brim.
“No, no, don’t blow it up!” Kevin yelled, lunging across the center console and snatching the matchbox just in time. “Are you crazy?! Do you know how expensive chicken is nowadays? In this economy?”
Wile E. shook his head in deep disappointment. Poor Kevin just didn’t understand.
“Okay, fine, what’s so special about this Road Runner meat?” Kevin asked curiously with hands on his hips.
To prove his point, the coyote handed over a beautifully detailed parchment scroll with a wink.
“What’s this?”
Kevin unrolled the scroll, and his eyes widened. It was a highly sophisticated anatomical diagram of a Road Runner, meticulously mapped out to show the absolute prime cuts and chops of the bird. As he read further down the list, he became increasingly bewildered, swatting the chart with the back of his hand.
“What the hell? That's the most snobbish thing I’ve ever laid my eyes upon,” he scoffed. “Most of these aren’t even meat! Some genius you are.”
Wile E. took great offense and gave him an annoyed look. He crossed his arms, refusing to take another bite.
Kevin’s face softened, and he let out a long sigh. “Look, I know you're a fanatic when it comes to that Road Runner, but you can't keep waiting until next Thanksgiving for your next meal. So, in the meantime, eat."
Wile E. kept his arms crossed, sitting still like a pouting, angsty teenager.
Kevin sighed again. “Fine! Don’t eat it, then. Lemme try another one with the ranch dip.”
The coyote turned his head attentively and watched as he dipped a chicken thigh into the glowing liquid.
“I mean, yeah, this stuff is like…radioactive blue or some other kind of unnatural blue. I don’t know what kind of food dye they used here, but here we go.”
He took a bite with a wet CRUNCH!
Kevin’s eyes lit up. “Mmm! Wow! This is some seriously creamy ranch!” He shook his head with delight. “Hang on. Let me dunk the whole thing.”
He submerged the entire piece in blue ranch and took another bite as it dripped endlessly into the bucket. Not even a second later, his stomach growled again like it was taunting him, and his eyes followed Kevin’s hands as he dipped another drumstick into the creamy sauce.
As Wile E. became overwhelmed with hunger, the blue-coated drumstick slowly began changing in his eyes. The crispy chicken transformed into the head of the Road Runner, and a bright orange beak sprouted from the meat, shouting, “MEEP MEEP!”
The starving coyote’s ears shot upright. He licked his lips and clasped his paws together, unable to resist the savory sight. He lunged forward, snatching the piece of chicken out of Kevin’s hand, and shoved the entire thing in his mouth, bones and all.
“Reverse psychology,” Kevin said to himself with a smug grin. “Works every time.”
Next, Wile E. stole the entire bucket and devoured every last piece with astonishing speed.
“Whoa! You’re really horking it down, huh?” he chuckled.
Once he finished the whole thing, he leaned back in his seat with a relaxed sigh. For the first time in a long while, the satisfied coyote was able to eat a full meal, and he patted his stuffed belly with a proud smile.
After letting out a loud belch, he held up one final sign with eagerness.
MORE PLEASE
Kevin couldn't help but guffaw at the coyote’s ravenous appetite. “You got it.”