Comic, cartoon, and web series One-Shots

5 tickets to Minions, please! - You & the Hexsquad (The Owl House)

"5 adult tickets to Minions, The Rise of Gru please."

This is the fourth time a group with an average age of over 12 years old has asked to see this movie today.

"That'll be 49.74." You've memorized the price of the tickets by now. The amount of unassuming (and already annoyed) parents helped with that, but also so many TikTok-watching teens who think it's soooo funny that they're being ironic and seeing a kids movie. You do not get paid nearly enough to deal with this. "Would you like anything from our concessions stand?"

The girl who you're speaking to has a smile on her face. She's wearing a letterman jacket (name probably starts with 'E', then), which was surprising in the July heat. But they keep the theater at a nice 50 degrees Fahrenheit, so maybe she isn't so crazy. She is the leader of the group, you could tell. You saw her rally the group into the line, and she's the one handing you the money now.

"Do you want anything to drink?" She asks her right hand lady (literally, though. They've been holding hands this entire time). Her friend keeps messing with her purple hair, pulling it in front of her face and pushing it back from her eyes, and it's kind of distracting. Letterman Jacket should offer her a hair tie.

"A Cherry Coca-Cola. What about the others?" Purple Hair holds onto the hem of her dress, which is far too fancy for this occasion.

"Gus wanted to buy them stuff. Mom gave him a twenty for chores."

Her outfit didn't beat this 'Gus', who had on an entire suit that was entirely too big for him. He would've been the shortest there except for the massive tophat he wore. The kid had been practically vibrating with excitement, and reminds you of the group of four boys in their Middle School Dance outfits you had served two hours ago.

After the two girls ordered ('Cherry Coca-Cola' and a large popcorn), Tophat Kid steps up to the booth.

"I'll have one small popcorn, one large popcorn, a pack of Sour Patch Kids, and a large Spirit."

"Sprite!" Yells Letterman Jacket.

"A large Sprite," he corrects himself.

The two teens behind him nod out of politeness. A young lady the definition of cottagecore with bandana, round glasses and flowy blouse smiles. The young man wearing Ray Bans, a beanie, and a nasty scar doesn't, but he gives a curt "Thank you" to you after taking the large popcorn.

"That's 23.39." You don't understand why these guys didn't go to a convenience store for their candy. You can't complain, though. Maybe you'll get commission if enough people buy this overpriced crap.

"Oh, no," says Tophat, not hiding his emotions well. "I only have twenty dollars. Um, can I return the sour patch ki-"

Ray Bans pulls something out of his glove (why this kid is wearing gloves in the middle of summer? It's never that cold in the theater). He puts it on the table and it's a crisp 10 dollar bill.

"Why do you keep money in there?" Cottagecore girl asks.

"I always kept a few sn- dollars- on me back home. It's hard to hitchhike when you can't pay," he replies.

Now you're curious. What 'currency' starts with 'sn' that this kid wouldn't want you knowing about? It's probably from somewhere rough, if he's got that scar. Maybe the gloves and ears-tucked-into-yellow-orange-beanie were a garb worn by some gang. And what's with the sunglasses? He wouldn't be able to see the movie with how opaque they are.

Glasses, gloves, yellow-

Oh my God.

You notice his jeans and blue sweater.

This guy-- this absolute monster-- is dressed as a minion. Those little pills have made your job hell for the past week, and one of them was standing right in front of you. The fact that someone even put in the effort to look like one was appalling.

You can't tell if he notices you staring at him, but Cottagecore girl ushers him to the side. She gives you a look that could spoil milk, and you avert your eyes.

Okay. Next guests. Couple in their fourties. Top Gun Maverick. Two bottles of water. The ordeal is over in under a minute, and they're graciously plain compared to the last group. Probably some now health-conscious eighties kids trying to relive their teen years.

You sneak a glance at where the kids have gone, and they're filing into Theater 2.

Ray Bans scratches at his beanie. You don't blame him, it looks itchy as hell. He's scratching a lot around the ear.

He lifts up the side of the hat and his ear slips out. It's as if a German Shepard had been turned into a human but kept his head proportions the same. It's huge, it must be the size of his hand. It has a clip out of it, too. Who gave him that injury?

You look away. You've seen too much. Or maybe you mistook his hand for an ear. The rage that the minion cosplay is making you hallucinate.

You shake it off. The next customers are here. Mom and her two kids.

"Can I have one adult ticket and two child tickets for Minions?"

The kids smile at each other. You grimace.

Yep. Rage-induced hallucination. That's going to be fun to explain to your therapist.