Episode 3
It was a normal day. Until it wasn't.
Tommy was making some random guy's coffee. Currently, he and Wilbur were in an argument over the ethics of a chicken being president. Wilbur thinks it could work, but Tommy believes Wilbur is just an idiot.
"Yes, but imagine: 'Hello, welcome back to BBC's News 8! And here we have Mr. Cluck with us to talk about politics!'"
"No, Wilbur, you dumbass. That's dumb and stupid. Shroud agrees with me. If anything it should be a cow, or a moth. Not a chicken. Chickens are dumb." Tommy pouted, folding his arms.
"Think about it, Toms! During the debates it would be just rapid clucking. It would be so funny."
"How would you finish the debate?"
"Exactly."
"..what?"
Wilbur shrugged and turned back to trying to put whipped cream on order 9's hot chocolate. Tommy turned to the coffee he was making, noticing it was spilling over the edge. Damnit. He sighed and wiped the cup with a napkin. He pressed the lid on and handed off the drink to Wilbur to bring to the table. Tommy glanced around the café, taking it all in. This wad really the first day he felt calm. No chaos. Just quiet. Techno would love this, if he wasn't off in the back room stocking storage.
Couples shared drinks in booths, children chilled on their devices after school, adults looking for alone time watched the sun out the window. The checkered floor was clean for once, and the red booths were the perfect shade. Tommy heard Phil got them polished, or whatever that means.
Wilbur turned back and walked behind the counter. He rested his arm around Tommy's shoulder.
"Now. What if it was a dolphin as President instead?"
"Wilbur, what the fuck is wrong with you."
The bell at the front rang, and the two co-workers raised their heads to see a man walk in. He was bald (ew) with 3D glasses. His sweatshirt was striped blue and black. He wore large chunky headphones. Tommy instantly pitied the man. It was such a hard turmoil-type life to live when you were bald.
The man walked up to the counter and looked at Wilbur and Tommy. He waited until a few minutes has passed, then started with the small talk.
"Ayup."
"Ayup." Tommy nodded.
"So, nice weather, aye?"
"You are bald."
The man blinked.
"I- excuse me?"
"You heard me." Tommy smirked. "Bitch", he added.
The man turned red for a second. Then he calmed himself down and started reaching into his pocket. He locked eyes with Big Man Tommy and started to yell a bit louder.
"I'm not bald."
"tsk, tsk. Denial is a hard thing to get over. I pay my respects."
The man got mad. "I'M NOT BALD. IT'S A PERFECTLY FINE HAIRSTYLE AND IS IN FASHION."
Tommy shrugged.
The man huffed and finally pulled out what was in his pocket. He swings out a gun and a bag. He was fucking fuming. Tommy stood there unconvinced. Wilbur started sweating and backed up a bit.
"PUT THE MONEY, IN THE BAG, OR I BLOW YOUR HEAD STRAIGHT OFF." He yelled. The customers ducked under the tables, taking cover. Wilbur panted and ran to the storage room to tell Techno and Phil and maybe call the police.
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May I take your order, Bitch Boy?
Fanfictionthat one crackfic where Tommy works at a cafe with his friends and does everything but his job. (Inspired by TUMOASD in a round about way) [DISCLAIMER: even though this fan fiction is advertised as a fluff/ crackfic; it does switch into angst sudden...
