Novellus Rome

Part Five

Dear Readers,
I hope you enjoy Part 5! If you like it, vote on it so I know I should keep writing.
Thanks,
Clarisssea

PART FIVE

Armies of raindrops fell from heavenly base camps relentlessly. The sky was a stylish shade of dark gray, and the clouds curled and rolled like smoke, having dropped low around the shiny tops of the skyscrapers in the city where Atlanta and Natasha were huddled in a warm, dry hotel room. Barry Montinez and Conrad Corolla weren't so lucky.
There wasn't a warning before the storm hit, other than the obvious blackening of the clouds. It had caught the RPD officer and the CIA agent, who met up in the more public and easy WestBurrow Street which was further in-town, completely by surprise. Neither of them had bothered to look up in quite a while, making it their own faults that, standing on the sidewalk talking in low voices, they were suddenly and confidently drenched. Then Barry Montinez flung his duffle bag over his head to block the rain and Conrad Corolla took to his limping run and the twosome raced for cover, shouting as they went. In a matter of seconds they dove under the edge of a roof and burst through the door of a McDonald's. Instantly they were hit with the smell of burgers and French potatoes frying in massive amounts of oil, but it was a welcome aroma and they looked at each other, dripping.
"You stand in line for food," Barry offered, "I'll go find something to put on that cut of yours."
Conrad glanced down at the back of his leg, noticing that his dark jeans were tinted red. "Yeah, deal," he said, grinning. The CIA agent limped over to the line-less counter and smiled at the cashier.
"What can I get you today?," the male cashier questioned, taking off his hat to brush back his blond hair before plopping it back on his head. He grinned cheesily. "There are some secret "deals", but I'm not allowed to tell you about them. You have to order them to get them."
"You just told me about them," Conrad Corolla mentioned, thinking of the limited cash in his wallet. It would be great not to have to use the card and leave a trail..."What deals?"
The cashier shrugged. "Who said anything about secret "deals"?," he asked, winking. He mouthed something.
"I missed that," Conrad said. The cashier mouthed it again, slowly, emphasizing every letter. It looked so funny that Conrad burst out laughing and took a moment to recover his composure. "Can I have the opossum nugget burger," he said, laughing, "that's what you were saying, right?"
"No," the cashier said, glancing upwards briefly. Conrad followed his gaze to spot the camera in the corner. "Sorry," said the cashier, "I'm not allowed to tell about the secret "deals". Here—just order a combination of stuff and I'll tell you if you hit a "deal"."
"Sure. Um, I'll take two drinks and two fries and two chicken sandwiches—number 6," Conrad ordered.
"Not even close," said the cashier. "Try the other direction."
"Okkkayyyy..." Conrad grinned. "I'll take negative two drinks, and negative two fries, and negative two chicken sandwiches, number negative six."
"No—I mean..." the cashier leaned over the counter and whispered "try beef options."
"Oh," said Conrad, "but what if I want chicken?"
"It's a really good "deal", said the cashier. Then he turned red and looked up at the camera and said very loudly: "What "deal"? There's no "deal"!"
"Chill, blondie," Conrad said, "we got this. I'll just take three medium fries and two drinks and..." he paused.
"Cough large cough," said the cashier.
"Three large fries," Conrad corrected, "two drinks..." he stopped again because the cashier was waving around his hands in various 'stop' motions. He mouthed a word.
"More?"
The cashier mouthed something again.
"Door?"
"Four drinks," said the cashier flatly, and then to the camera, "is definitely NOT a "deal" trigger."
"I don't really want four drinks," Conrad mentioned quietly.
"Trust me," the cashier growled menacingly in a low whisper. Then he smiled. "And for burgers?"
"Two hamburger..." Conrad hesitated again. He looked at the cashier, who glanced at the camera and then back at Conrad. For a moment, he was thinking.
Then the cashier said slowly: "Kings and queens."
Conrad grinned and his eyes flashed excitedly. "Quarter pounder," he said confidently. "Two quarter pounders."
"DING DING DING," cried the cashier, "we have a winner!" Then he said: "It's all free."
"What?"
"All of this. It's free. Null. Nada. No cash payment required. Four drinks, three large fries, two quarter pounders. It's the four-three-two-quarters "deal". It's a secret. How did you ever figure it out. Well, congratulations." Someone in the back hollered: "HEADS UP!," and a few seconds later a brown bag of food came flying across the kitchen. The cashier caught it and threw it at Conrad, who had to dive for it. "Good bye, have a nice day," the cashier said quickly. "Enjoy the food. Tell your friends to eat Mackey D's."
When Conrad told Barry of the experience with the blond cashier, he shook his head, laughing. "Everything happens to you," he said at last, handing Conrad a roll of medical tape. "But there's one thing I don't get. How did you know he was talking about the quarter pounder, when he said kings and queens?"
"In Germany," Conrad explained, "the sandwich is called "Royal Kase."
"Ah," Barry said. "Hm, interesting." He took a gulp of cola and said: "this is really bad coke."
"I know, these places never get the syrup right," Conrad agreed, wrapping the bandage around his shin.
They fell silent, listening to the rain pattering and tapping and knocking leisurely on the window. Every once in a while, a clap of thunder rumble, both above their heads and below their feet at the same time.
"So, where are we staying tonight?" Conrad asked. "I'd like to take a shower."
"Let's just live in the moment," Barry decided, eating a handful of fries. "I'm happy right where I am right now."
"Hey—don't eat all the fries."
"You'd better hurry. They are great."
"Warm and crunchy and good grief, they need ketchup. Or mayo."
"Mayo....on fries?"
"Oh, absolutely. Best combination ever."

TO BE CONTINUED