Septiplier One Shots

Robbery at Taco Bell

"Welcome to Taco Bell, what would you like to order?" Jack said in a monotone voice, staring at the partially-red-haired weirdo. He recognized him from his period five chemistry class, but he didn't really notice him. He was known to dawdle in the bathroom, annoyingly so, and get average grades. An overall ok kid, but he didn't know his name.

"Yeah, um, I'll get..." the high schooler started, looking at the menus. "How about a crunch wrap supreme, some empanadas, and, hmmmmm...." He stared up at the menu once more and stared at Jack with an evil glint in his eye.

"All the cash."

It happened in an instant, his motive clear. He pulled out a black gun, and Jack could only hope it was a sham kind. The customers looked at the red guy in fear, he looked at him in fear, and even the kitchen seemed to look at him with fear. afraid to move. Quickly, Jack opened the cash register and handed the man all the money.

"R-really? This is like, nothing," the red-haired guy said, looking at the $27.82 in his hand.

"What do you expect dude?! This is a freakin' Taco Bell!" Jack said in an exasperated tone. Why hadn't he just taken the day off?

"I figured that it wouldn't be heavily guarded!" the boy said, annoyed. "Plus, I only needed a few hundred... I got people I have to pay back."

"That's just a scapegoat," Jack exclaimed, his sassiness getting the best of himself. "You don't even have an accomplice.,"

"I don't even know what a scapegoat is."

"Ugh. It's when you find an excuse or blame something for your own actions."

"Whatever! I didn't care anyway." the guy said, going behind the counter and harshly grabbing Jack's shirt, knocking off his hat. "Since this place ain't enough, I guess I'll just have to barter for money." He stared into Jack's constricted sea-glass eyes. 'With you."

At that, he pointed the gun at the customers as he walked out of the door backward. He opened his raggedy jeep and flung Jack in.

"Why are you doing this?" Jack screamed as he started the car.

"I'm sorry dude. I have to do this though," the guy said with sympathy. He pulled out a rag and poured some sour smelling liquid onto it.

"This was Plan B, sorry Jack," He said, covering Jack's face in the rag. He squirmed and struggled, which resulted on some minor bleeding and bruising on the boy's same, and Jack slowly got weaker. He muffled something, then stopped the struggle.

"By the way, the name's Mark," he whispered as he backed out of the Taco Bell and onto the open road.

"I'm really sorry."