Food Fight

Just Peachy

A petite girl pushed a strand of red hair out of her face, she an annoyed look on her face.

Why was everyone so stupid?

There Wendy sat, in the middle of an 'important' meeting with all of her fellow Restaurant Mascots. Three hours had passed, and everyone was still arguing.

"I think it's about time we call this quits," Wendy crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair, "Shall we pick this up, say, next week?"

Ronald rolled his eyes at the girl, "We are in the middle of talking about restaurant management."

"Really? 'Cuz to me it just looks like we're arguing over the same crap we always do."

"Okay, I've had just about enou-"

"Stop!" shouted an older man from the corner, his white hair falling into his eyes, "Can we just all be quiet for five seconds?"

Another man stood up from the table the rest of them sat at, re-adjusting his crown, "I never thought I'd say this, but Sander's is right. We all need to pull ourselves together."

"You guys were the ones who've been arguing for the past three hours," Wendy retorted, tossing a braid over her shoulder.

"It's called a discussion," scoffed Ronald McDonald, "But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Miss Always-Has-to-Throw-Shade-on-Twitter?"

"It's called a marketing ploy, but you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Mister Clown Face?"

"Can we all just take a break from this?" questioned a man with a strange snowman-looking head, whom everyone knew as the 'Jack in the Box' mascot.

"Jack is right," Sanders agreed, "Let's just go home."

"Finally," Wendy shot up from her chair, rubbing her sore back, "I swear, these metal chairs are a nightmare. Can't we budget in some more of those fancy chairs King always sits in?"

"We can't all have thrones," argued King, "That defeats the purpose."

"You aren't even an actual king, you self-entitled jack-"

"Please don't use that word," Jack frowned.

"Don't use Jack's name in vain, Wendy," scolded Ronald playfully, "It hurts his feelings."

Wendy threw her head back in laughter, "Oh, the poor thing."

"Stop making fun off him," another mascot argued, "How would you like it?"

"Oh, get over it," piped in a different one.

"Stop telling people to get over stuff, they can't help it if someone hurts their feelings."

"Stop being such babies!"

"Okay!" yelled Sanders, "Enough!"

All of the mascots grew quiet.

"We're going to call this a day, and come back tomorrow to finish. When we come back I want everyone to have their plans for individual restaurant improvement for this next year ready to roll. Got it?"

"Got it," they all nodded.

"Alright then. Meeting adjourned."

Wendy picked up her bag and was the first one out of the room. She had enough of these people. Why can't they lighten up for once? Everything with them was work work work work.

Work.

Now there's a weird word for you. Just say it over and over again. It's the ugliest sounding word. Work. Ugh, it sent shivers down Wendy's spine just thinking about it.

"Are you going to work?"

Wendy was shook out of her thoughts. Looking up, she saw Ronald.

"Hey, Donnie. What's cookin'?"

"I asked you a question."

"The answer to that is no," Wendy pushed by him, "Now if you excuse me, I have to get home. Gotta check on my cat."

"You have a cat?" he followed beside her.

"I thought I told you about this."

"You didn't."

"Oh," Wendy scratched the back of her head, "Well, now you know, I guess."

"Did you hear about that weird explosion that happened in Manhattan the other day?"

Wendy nodded, "Of course, it was all over the Internet. It was awful."

"Three people dead, several more injured."

"Who do you think did this?"

Ronald shrugged, "No clue. But I hope they catch them before they try anything else."

"You think they would?"

"It was obviously a message. What about, I don't know."

Wendy shivered, "God, that's awful to think about."

"I thought you were into the morbid stuff."

"Not when it involves innocent people dying."

"Sanders is mad about it," he sniffed, looking at the ground.

"Oh yeah, it was right in the parking lot of one of his restaurants. I would be so pissed if that happened to one of my restaurants."

"It's so weird though, why would you want to blow up a restaurant parking lot?"

Wendy shrugged as she walked ahead of him, "No idea, but I better be going. See you at tomorrow's meeting!"

"Alright, see you."

What they didn't know was that tomorrow's meeting would be cancelled.

The bomber would strike again.

This time, closer to home.