Work Text:
The Skeld cafeteria had been relatively peaceful, nothing much happening. The round was still going on, pretty much almost everyone else was just chilling in the cafeteria right now, doing nothing responsible with two imposters still on the loose. Now with most of the crew being dead, there was only six people left in the remaining round.
Mr Egg was just trying to enjoy himself in relative silence, sitting at the table, after already finishing up his tasks. Nothing particularly annoying had really happened until Mr Cheese sauntered in the cafeteria. Mr Egg didn’t even have to look up to know trouble had arrived. So much for that.
Mr Cheese strolled past before spotting Mr Egg, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Hey, Egg Benedict! What's up?” Mr Cheese leaned against the table.
Mr Egg sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Mr Cheese. I’ve told you a thousand times—Egg Benedict is a breakfast dish!? It involves poaching an egg, putting it on an English muffin, and covering it in hollandaise sauce! Stop calling me that!"
“Jeez Louise," Mr Cheese muttered.
Stoner eyes widened as the two's conversation finally processed in his brain. “‘Benedict’?” Stoner murmured, his voice incredibly deep and relaxed. “Mr Egg, I know thats like... deep, man. But 'Benedict' actually makes you sounds a bit fancy, you get me?”
“Exactly,” Mr Cheese agreed, turning around as Player wandered into the cafeteria. “Hey, Player!” Mr Cheese called out. “Tell Mr Egg that Benedict sounds fancy!”
Player paused. “What?”
“I said…” Mr Cheese glared at Player in a terrifyingly matter. “Tell Mr Egg that 'Benedict' sounds fancy.” He repeated.
“Uh… why?”
“Say it.” Mr Cheese hissed.
Player let out a sigh. “I mean… I guess it sounds kind of fancy?”
Mr Cheese beamed, taking Player's reluctant response as complete agreement, immediately pointing an agressive finger at Mr Egg. “See, Mr Egg?!”
“Wait, no, I didn’t mean—” Player started.
“Player agrees.” Mr Cheese interrupted.
“I didn’t agree with anything Mr Cheese!”
Mr Egg could tolerate Mr Cheese being annoying. That was nothing new. And Player's opinion wasn’t exactly something he was going to lose sleep over. He folded his arms.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Sure it does, Benedict.”
“Would you stop calling me that?”
“Why, BEHN-uh-dikt?” Mr Cheese asked innocently. “It sounds quite sophisticated for you, you should be proud!”
Captain suddenly looked up from across the table after he overheard the name. “Hey! Wait a minute... did you say Benedict?!”
Everyone turned their attention toward Captain.
“We have a Benedict aboard? Like Benedict Arnold?” Captain suddenly gasped and slammed his hand onto the table, pointing a trembling finger right in Mr Egg’s face with his other hand. “...You're not up to something sus, are you?”
Mr Egg blinked, leaning away from Captain's intense gaze. “No? Mr Cheese just said—”
“I know exactly who that is!” Captain disrupted, slamming on the meeting button even though everyone is literally already standing in the room.
-Emergency meeting!!-
“Benedict Arnold, the infamous general! Who betrayed George Washington and defected to the British. He was a textbook traitor!” Captain cried.
“No! No!” Mr Egg threw his hands up defensively and shook his head wildly. “Im no traitor?! It's Egg Benedict—the breakfast!”
Veteran, sitting at the end of the table, laughed. “Uh, Captain, pretty sure he's just a dude with an egg hat. Not the 18th-century military officer.”
“Don't you see, Veteran?!” Captain slammed his foot onto the seat, pointing wildly. “Impostors are traitors! Traitors are Benedicts. Therefore, Mr Egg is a historical Impostor! The logic is flawless!”
“Historical imposter!?” Bro questioned, looking quite baffled by the claim. “Never heard of that one before.”
Veteran gave him a look. “That literally has no correlation, whatsoever. So. I'm skipping this vote.”
“Yeah, me too.” Player agreed with a nod. “That really doesn't make any sense at all, honestly.”
Mr Cheese didn't originally intend on bringing suspicion on Mr Egg. But since Mr Cheese was the Impostor, he couldn't care less. Besides, his petty rivalry with Mr Egg got the better of him. He wasn't going to let this go. He wanted to feed Captain’s absurd suspicions and trick him into voting Mr Egg out. Captain was quite gullible, anyways.
Mr Cheese laughed loudly, nudging Captain, trying to enable him. “Yeaah! Vote out Mr Egg!” Mr Cheese turned his attention to Mr Egg. “Mr Egg, it’s a surprise nobody's ganging up on you yet… you sure you're not the imposter?”
“Not on my watch.” Captain declared. “We need to get this traitor out, immediately!”
“What?!” Mr. Egg shrieked, waving his hands. “I've been doing my crewmate tasks beforehand! I haven't even left the room yet!”
Stoner looked over at Captain. “Captain, you should chill out.”
“Quiet, Stoner!” Captain raised his hand high, announcing, “Now, all those in favor of voting out the historical traitor into the freezing, ice-cold, harsh expanse of infinite space, say AYE!”
“AYE!” Captain, Bro, and most certainly, Mr Cheese says in unison.
Stoner and Veteran were still making their decision. Being the only ones who've been around Mr Egg in previous rounds. They're the only ones who could vouch for him.
“Wait, what?!” Mr Egg said in disbelief, waving his hands. “I was doing my wires tasks in electrical earlier." He turned wide, desperate eyes towards Veteran. “Veteran can vouch!”
Veteran held up his hands, defensively leaning back. “Whoa, look, Mr Egg, I'd love to help you out. But honestly,” Veteran shook his head. “I don't remember seeing you do those wires… I'm still skipping this vote tho. Good luck.”
“Veteran?!” Mr Egg gasped. He turned his attention to Stoner with a desperate plea. “Stoner?! You saw me before, didn't you?”
Stoner ignored him and said nothing to defend Mr Egg. He was also the second imposter afterall, and this whole setup was going perfectly.
“Stoner, pay attention!” Mr Egg screamed, his voice cracking with absolute desperation.
“WHAat?” Stoner turned his head.
“They're voting me out! say something!”
Stoner stared at Mr Egg, before placing his vote for Mr Egg, with agonizing slowness. “Erhh… I think im placing my vote for… Mr Egg. Aye.”
“Sorry, my guy,” Bro added. “But Captain's right, 'Benedict' is kind of a sus name not gonna lie.”
Mr Egg stared in utter dissapointment. He's surrounded by idiots. They unanimously voted Mr Egg out. As Mr Egg floated out into the cold vacuum of space it declared:
Mr Egg was not an Impostor. (2 Impostor remaining.)
Mr Cheese just leaned back, grinning like a maniac as he successfully framed an innocent Crewmate without doing a single shred of actual work.
Captain scratched his head. “Huh. I guess George Washington was wrong—”
Before Captain could finish his thought, Mr Cheese pulled out a gun and shot down Captain point blank. Claiming the sweet glorious victory of winning as imposter, alongside Stoner.
-Back in the lobby-
“I cannot believe you guys!” Engineer shouted in dissatisfaction. “Me and Gnome were brutally murdered in the Reactor last round and you guys were just debating about historical stuff?!”
“Yeahh!” Gnome dramatically declared. “That was all just logistical nonsense!” Her gaze swept across the group, giving everyone an equally incredulous look. “What were you guys even thinking!?”
“Hey! Don't look at me?!” Player recoiled slightly, throwing his hands up. “I literally didn't agree with anything Mr Cheese was saying. Everyone here just lacks of actual critical thinking skills! We had a good chance to just skip and do something responsible, but instead, we threw Mr Egg out for no reason!”
“Exactly! It was a completely awful experience!” Mr Egg snapped from the side of the room, crossing his arms. “You guys literally voted me out over a breakfast pun!”
“Ouch, tough crowd,” Bro muttered.
Veteran shrugged. “Don't look at me either. I skipped my vote.”
“Hey!” Captain huffed, getting really defensive. “A good leader must always be prepared for any tactical threat. Whether it's an imposter or an eighteenth-century military defector, I acted out of pure, utmost vigilance!”
“Well, your act cost us the entire match, Captain.” TheGentleman sighed, looking thoroughly offended. “I was minding my own business swiping my card in Admin, only for Mr. Cheese to slice me in twain! Being killed first was undignified, but having to watch the rest of you fall for a breakfast pun mishap was just downright infuriating to see.”
“Oh, come on TheGentleman,” Mr. Cheese piped up, crossing his arms and leaning over to him. “Don't be salty just because I sliced you up first thing in the round. My strategies are just that flawless... haHa!”
“Tch. Flawless…” TheGentleman huffed quietly.
Veteran snickered, “But, you gotta admit, 'Historical Impostor' is a pretty hard way for Mr Egg to go out.”
“Yeah, historically stupid,” Mr. Cheese cackled. “You guys were just a bunch of dum-dums, seriously.”
“Hey, at least it was a historical L.” Bro chuckled. “That makes it educational.”
His joke met with complete awkward silence. Bro paused before abruptly looking for a distraction. He shifted his attention over to the corner of the lobby where Ninja was standing.
He sauntered over and leaned casually against the wall next to him. “Hey, Ninja, my guy,” he muttered, dropping his voice to a terrible attempt at a stealthy whisper. “Pretty wild round, huh? You wanna go practice some sweet kick-flips stuff or whatever while these guys finish crying?”
Ninja let out a sigh, sounding thoroughly disappointed by the entire lobby's performance.
“なんて情けない連中だ。” (What a pathetic bunch.)
Bro blinked, completely missing the insult. “Deep words. I totally feel that, Ninja. You're a poet.”
“Is anyone on this ship capable of having a logical conversation?!” Engineer said, clearly exasperated by the entire situation.
“I highly doubt it, Engineer,” TheGentleman chimed in. “I'm starting to question the lobby’s intellectual competence.”
“Clearly not,” Gnome huffed, crossing her arms tightly. “We just lost a match because of an accidental history lesson.”
“History is the greatest weapon of all, Gnome!” Captain protested. “You should start taking notes.”
Mr Cheese completely ignored them, turning his attention toward Stoner, who was leaning against a nearby crate. “Up high, partner in crime!”
Stoner blinked, raising his hand with a delayed reaction. “Oh, yeaah. Total radical play.” Stoner drawled, slapping a high five into Mr Cheese's hand.
With the victory celebration complete, Mr Cheese's eyes immediately locked onto Mr Egg, who was standing off to the side, absolutely seething. “Hey, what's the matter? You mad because I'm a tactical genius at being an imposter?”
Mr. Egg didn't say a single word. He glared at Mr. Cheese with pure unfiltered hatred. After a long, agonizing silence, Mr Egg considered just leaving the lobby out of pure spite.
Mr Egg left the game.
“Aww.” Mr Cheese pouted.
Mr Egg spent the next couple of hours stewing in pure, unadulterated spite, pacing back and forth, planning the ultimate retaliation for what Mr Cheese did. Even if he's taking this waay too seriously.
But no matter how hard he tried to brush it off, Mr Cheese’s stupid voice continued to replay in his head and ohh now it brought him shame to rethink about it. The sheer, unadulterated incompetence of his teammates was staggering.
Mr Egg stood alone there for a moment. Then an idea came in mind! A really awful one actually. Surely Mr Cheese’s house would definitely become very familiar with eggs. And Mr Egg would make absolutely certain of it.
He will egg Mr Cheese's house. Out of sheer pettiness. It was a terrible plan that was maturely irresponsible, and was, quite frankly, a waste of perfectly good eggs.
But as Mr Egg stared blankly at the ground, the sheer weight of the humiliation pressed down on him. He could still see Captain shouting about historical traitors, getting him voted out for a preposterous reason. Worst of all, he could still see Mr Cheese's smug look watching all that go down.
If Mr Cheese wanted to make jokes at his expense… then perhaps it was only fair that Mr Cheese learned the consequences of doing so.
Mr Egg walked briskly down the sidewalk, the evening air doing absolutely nothing to cool the humiliation burning fresh in his chest. Suddenly, Mr Egg stopped walking. His gaze shifted toward a nearby grocery store. If Mr Cheese wanted to treat him like a joke, he was going to give him a punchline he wouldn't forget!
-Later-
Mr Egg crept along the edge of the sidewalk, his eyes fixed on the windows of Mr Cheese's house. He held a flimsy plastic grocery bag close to his chest, moving with a cautious stealth. Inside the bag, cradled flat to keep them from clinking together or breaking, a carton of eggs he had just bought from the store.
He had endured a stare from the cashier for buying absolutely nothing but eggs at eight in the evening, but it would all be worth it. This was for payback for Mr Cheese.
Later on, sky had faded into a deep, bruised purple, and the streetlamps were just beginning to flicker to life. It was quite the perfect time for a tactical strike, or atleast, his petty revenge plan. Late enough for the cover of darkness, but early enough that Mr Cheese was guaranteed to still be awake to see the immediate aftermath.
Mr Egg carefully reached into the crinkling plastic bag, his fingers wrapping around the fragile shell of the first projectile. He raised it to take aim, but suddenly paused.
Mr Egg stared down at the egg in his hand. Is he really about to weaponize his own namesake against someone? …Eh. Mr Cheese deserved it.
He took a deep breath, preparing his throwing arm, his eyes locked dead-center on Mr Cheese's front door. “…George Washington sends his regards.” Mr Egg hissed under his breath. He pulled his arm back—
Without warning, Player randomly emerged from the bushes.
“...Hi.”
“AAAHHEEEUU—?!” Mr Egg shrieked, flailing backwards and dropping the egg, it went splat on the ground. He spun around to find Player poking out of the bush behind him, a twig stuck in his beanie.
“Player!? What are you doing in the bushes!?” Mr Egg furiously whispered.
Player looked over his shoulder. “Was... looking for fireflies.”
Mr Egg slowly looked at the twig sticking out of Player’s beanie. “…You have a stick in your hat.”
Player reached up, pulled the twig out, and stared at it with profound boredom, throwing it right on the ground.
“You startled me.” Mr Egg said. “And also, fireflies aren't even out right now! What are you doing?”
Player’s attention shifted to the egg in Mr Egg's hand. He scoffed, crossing his arms. “What am I doing? …What are you doing?”
Mr Egg straightened. “None of your concern.”
Player stared at him, entirely unimpressed. “You're standing outside Mr Cheeses's house holding a carton of eggs in a bag?”
Mr Egg sighed, letting a bit of his irritation slip. “Fine! I’m egging his house.”
Player blinked, entirely detached. “What? Why?”
“He called me Egg Benedict, and I got voted out for it!” Mr Egg hissed.
That actually sounded like a pathetic reason to egg someone's house, or atleast that's what Player thought. He turned around to leave.
“You also lost that round because of him.” Mr Egg added quickly, to get his attention.
Player paused. His expression shifted, a flicker of genuine annoyance breaking through his cold facade.
Mr Egg held an egg out toward him, pushing it into his personal space. “So… mind helping me? HM? HMm?”
Player shook his head.
“Just hold it then.” Mr Egg insisted.
“Why should I?”
“Because… I have too many, obviously!”
“That’s not my problem,” Player said, looking away. “You should carry fewer items.”
Mr Egg continued holding it out to him, badgering him silently. Player stared at it. He hated being pestered more than he hated helping. But, Mr Egg continued egging him on.
“..Pleaasee?” Mr Egg whined, clapsing his free hand over the one holding the egg, giving Player an imploring look.
After several seconds of annoyed resistance, Player reluctantly snatched it out of Mr Egg's hand. “Fine… but, I’m not helping you egg his house,” Player muttered. “I’m an observer, alright?”
Mr Egg just ignored him, picked up another fresh egg from his bag, and turned toward Mr Cheeses's house. He pulled his arm back and threw it. SPLATT
Player just casually watched as the mess slid down the wall.
Mr Egg immediately scooped up another egg. Player watched as he took careful aim and threw it underhand. Plop! The egg landed dead-center on Mr Cheeses's welcome mat, yolk spreading all across the surface.
Player blinked, finally looking a little confused. “Why the welcome mat?”
Mr Egg shrugged with vindictive satisfaction. “Because he has to step on it to leave the house, doesn't he?”
Player frowned. “That's just petty. And gross.”
Mr Egg picked up a third egg, and immediately whipped it straight at the front door, splattering everywhere.
Player slowly looked over the growing mess. It was getting excessive, and his patience was wearing thin. Meanwhile, Mr Egg was already reaching back into the crinkling grocery bag, his fingers hooking around two more eggs at the same time to prepare a double-handed strike.
Player stepped forward, putting a hand out to block Mr Egg’s throwing arm. “…Okay, that’s enough. You got your revenge. Let's just go before Mr Cheese catches you.”
Mr Egg glanced back at him. “Wait! I’ll give you… ten bucks! If you throw yours.”
Player looked down at the egg he still was holding in his hand, his superior attitude instantly evaporating at the mention of fast cash. “Actual dollars? Of hard cash?” He gleamed. “Really?”
“Yes, actual money.”
Player hesitated, trying to regain his dignity. “…Fine.” He slowly raised his arm, aiming at the wall. Then he stopped, lowering his hand. “I still think this is a ridiculous idea.”
“You already agreed!” Mr Egg whispered furiously. He gestured toward the house. “Come on, just throw it.”
“I said I would!” Player snapped. With a frustrated groan, Player finally lined up his shot and threw the egg. The egg hit the window frame perfectly.
Player froze, realization dawning on him. ”…Huh,” Player muttered, almost impressed with himself.
Mr Egg slowly looked at him, a massive smirk breaking across his face. “Nice shot, Player! You’re an accomplice now.”
“Hey—Don’t start,” Player said. Caught up in the sudden rush of the moment and wanting to make a quick buck, he reached right back into Mr Egg’s bag and scooped up another egg. “I don’t even know why I’m doing this!” Player exclaimed, though the hint of amusement in his voice suggested otherwise.
“It's for the ten dollars.” Mr Egg said matter-of-factly. “And this is payback for what Mr Cheese has done!”
Player let out a breath, shaking his head “You’re lucky I'm in desperate need for ten dollars.” He muttered, hurling the fifth egg straight at the house. He was just reaching his hand back into the bag for another egg when a sudden, heavy click echoed from above.
Both of them froze instantly. They looked up in unison to see the upstairs bedroom window illuminate, casting a square of light onto the lawn. Shadows moved rapidly behind the glass.
Mr Egg eyes widened, his crisp accent instantly dropping to a panicked, breathless whisper. “OH No! We've been caught!”
Player turned toward him “What do you mean we've?”
Without another word, Mr Egg bolted. He skidaddled toward the side fence. Player watched in disbelief as Mr Egg vaulted over it with surprising agility, and dropped onto the other side.
Player immediately ran after him. “Mr Egg?! You can't just leave me here!”
Mr Egg's voice echoed from the darkness of the neighboring alleyway, fading fast. “Sorry, Player! Gotta get going now!”
“You owe me ten bucks, MR EGG!” Player screamed at the fence.
“I'll pay you back LA-ter! And consider it compensation for being slow!”
“I can’t jump over the fence!?”
“Sounds like a YOu problem!” Mr Egg yelled back, before vanishing completely to the other side.
Player whipped his head toward the bushes he'd emerged from earlier. For a brief moment, he considered diving back into them.
Suddenly the front door swung open. Mr Cheese stepped out. He took one aggressive step forward and a loud, squelching crunch echoed through the yard. Mr Cheese stopped. He slowly looked down at his foot, which his socks were now sinking directly into a pool of raw yolk on his welcome mat.
Mr Cheese's face contorted into pure, dramatic horror. “No... not my welcome mat!!” Mr Cheese cried. “And… ew man, my socks are friggin soggy now.” He grimaced, slowly looking up, his eyes immediately widening at the sight of Player. “HEY! What are you doing?!”
Player wanted to make a run for it, but that definitely was way too late now. Unfortunately, Mr Cheese was already standing right in front of him, crossing his arms and staring him down intensely.
“I-I can explain!” Player froze, quickly trying to act casual, though his voice cracked slightly. “It was Mr Egg!... I swear!”
“Mr Egg? That stewpid egg-moron? He did this?!”
“Yes. It was his whole operation!”
Mr Cheese looked around the empty, silent yard. There was literally no sign of Mr Egg. Just Player standing under the floodlights, holding a single, unthrown egg tightly in his right hand.
Mr Cheese slowly looked from the egg back up to Player’s face. “His operation? Sure bud. So... where is he at now?”
“I’m serious, Mr Cheese!” Player pointed a trembling finger toward the side fence. “He literally did a parkour vault over that fence and ran away!”
Mr Cheese looked at the fence. He walked over to it, squinted into the darkness, then turned back to Player, examining him with the intensity of a low-budget detective. Mr Cheese tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Hmmmm-uhhhmuhhh…"
“Why doesn’t anyone believe me?!” Player whined.
“Oh, I know Mr Egg did it,” Mr Cheese said flatly, his serious expression twisting into a smug, knowing grin. “Trust me, I know exactly how furious he was after I absolutely wrecked him in that round of Among Us earlier. Mr Egg has zero chill.”
Player blinked, hope flaring up for a split second. “Great! Thats fantastic. So you believe me. Can I leave now?”
“But, Mr Egg isn't here to clean this mess,” Mr Cheese interrupted, stepping forward and tapping Player's chest with a single, dramatic finger. “You, however... are standing on my lawn. Holding ammunition, Player!”
“He bribed me!” Player yelled desperately.
Mr Cheese paused, his intense demeanor breaking for a fraction of a second as he processed the information. “Whauh?”
“Ten bucks.”
A long, heavy silence followed. Mr Cheese looked at the massive, dripping smears of egg on his siding, then down at the plastic grocery bag Mr Egg had abandoned on the ground in his frantic escape.
“Ten bucks? Wow, you sold out my exterior decor for a culinary crime spree, huh? That hurts, Player.” Mr Cheese shook his head “Whatever... stay here. And don't think about making a run for it, unless you want me telling everyone you're a vandal, Simon."
Player looked down at the egg in his hand. For some reason, he really wanted to throw it at Mr Cheese.
Mr Cheese finally turned around and disappeared back inside the house.
Player let out a huge, relieved sigh. Good thing Mr Cheese isn't staring him down anymore. He stood there, still surrounded by the evidence of Mr Egg’s revenge. He knelt down, placed back the remaining egg back into the abandoned carton inside the crinkling grocery bag and stood back up.
A few moments later, Mr Cheese returned. He marched back out, stepping delicately around the ruined mat, and tossed a small plastic object through the air. Player caught it out of pure instinct. He looked down at his palm.
It was a faded blue toothbrush with bristles that had clearly seen better days. Player slowly looked back up, entirely bewildered. “…What's this for?”
“You're helping with cleaning the mess,” Mr Cheese said, his tone incredibly grave and authoritative.
“What?! If you know it was Mr Egg, make him clean it. He literally left his whole evidence bag here!” He dramatically threw both arms toward the bag beside him.
“I appreciate the intel,” Mr Cheese said. “But he made a run for it, and now it's just you. Now start scrubbin like a good little accomplice.” Mr Cheese headed back inside, shutting the front door.
Player knelt down on the edge of the grass, trying to avoid the sticky mess on the welcome mat, and brought the tiny brush up to the wall. Scrubby scrub scrub...
Then, a few moments later, Player paused to look up, watching as Mr Cheese opened the window, and precariously leaned out across the sill with a rag and a random bottle of window cleaner, and started aggressively scrubbing at the yolk running down the glass.
Player stared down at the toothbrush, utterly defeated. “…You didn't even give me a proper cleaning brush.” He muttered to himself. “This will probably take me an entire campaign mode to finish.”
From upstairs, Mr Cheese's voice echoed down, “Hey! Less talking, more scrubbing. I'm hearing your lack of progress from up here.”