WikiHow: My husband's a supervillain.

Everyone's getting Deja Vu, I just want out of this drug van.

"Hello! Would you like a burger!"

 
The bbq had broken hours ago, Ranboo really wanted out of the van this second. The smoke was clogging up the back room. The stands which were not used for legal purposes, could barely hold a burger.

 
There was no place him to put it down. If Ranboo could manage to get it too cook in the first place. Currently, it was a balancing act between the lighter and the spatula.

There was also Michael clinging to him, putting his centre off because he was scared. Had it been anyone else, Ranboo would have kicked him away. It was Michael though, and the sheer amount of people who liked the cheap ass burgers was overwhelming.

He couldn't see the queue but as Tubbo continued to yell an ever growing list of instructions, Ranboo was starting to wonder if he was making it up.

The clamp hung on a thread above his head. That was another part of the whole experience. He was squatting in fear that he would kill someone at worse. At best, they would have had a food inspector question what was going on there.

Did food inspectors care about worker abuse? If they did, Ranboo could just push it down now. That was the best option that seemed to be coming from this.

"Ranboo, have you done that burger yet?" Tubbo asked, "The people are getting impatient and we might start getting complaints. Or loosing money to Mcdonalds? Do you want that?" "I'm using a lighter!"

Ranboo held it up in a futile attempt to prove his point.

It didn't catch fire to anything. That was one of the few good things to come from this then.

"Why don't you just use the stove? Schlatt used to make weed brownies in here, I know that thing will work if you kick it hard enough."

"I'm sorry? What stove?"

Tubbo shut the door. Behind the place was the smallest oven Ranboo had ever had the pity of seeing. The wires couldn't even be connected.

"Seriously?" Is all he could say. The lighter fickered off as Ranboo grabbed the half done burger and shoved it on the top.

"Yeah! I'll kick it for you. Can you manahe the customers?"

No, Ranboo couldn't manage the customers but he didn't have a choice in this. He pulled the door open.

It didn't smell like weed and sweat. He could almost taste the fresh air after so long of all that crusty oxygen.

The second room also looked significantly better than the backroom. The table tops were clean for fucks sake. The meal plan looked freshly scribbled.

He leant over the counter to face the customer, a man who looked as if he had one too many drug van burgers before.

"So, what issue do you have with our fine establishment!" Ranboo grabbed the closest pen and held it over the piece of paper left lying around.

The man slammed his fists against the counter. Ranboo did not jump out of his skin. He did not. The noise just freaked him out a bit. "I've been waiting for hours and I still ain't got my burger! I ought to get it for free at this rate! Go tell your manager, or the fucking dude in the kitchen that they need to hurry the fuck up."

Deep breaths in. Deep breaths out.

"I'm afraid our establishment has a zero bitch policy about our workers. We can charge you double for that. I hope you don't mind."

"I sure do mind! Are you even listening to me?"

"Oh yes, I am listening to you." Ranboo put the pen down, "I simply don't care."