Super Meals: Part Twenty-Four

He didn’t get much sleep, but Doctor Ralph slept well, and woke up rested.

He was disappointed in his sloppiness the previous night – it was virtually unheard of that he’d left witnesses or ever had to clean up after himself like that – but he was really rather happy that he’d successfully conducted two experiments in a single night, so he forgave himself for his oversight.

The “jalapeno fire burger” test wasn’t entirely scientific since it wasn’t directly observed, but the results were extremely observable, so he made his notes on his tablet computer and uploaded them to his private server for backup.

The true achievement of the night, though, was his discovery of the “bulletproof burger,” as he was calling it. That was a new development in his research, as he had never had those results before, and he was excited to get back to his laboratory and look into it further.

But, for now, he still had to keep up his cover, so he was going to work.

He’d already made his presence known to that SaraBecca girl at the other restaurant, so he had no doubt in his mind that she’d already called at least one or two other branches and let them know he was in town. The fast food chain encouraged store managers to become friends and share their knowledge with each other – not only was it helpful for morale, but the corporate head of human resources determined that they could lower their training budget by 6%, and corporate communications budget by another 2% by simply relying on the human nature of gossip.

It also helped that the corporate head of human resources received part of those savings in their bonus check that year.

Doctor Ralph had discovered that nobody paid attention to someone who wasn’t trying to hide, so in order to remain undetected as he traveled, he always chose to spend at least one day working in one of the restaurants. It was a good way to justify his visit, it provided him with an alibi, and, strangely enough, it made the employees absolutely love him. It was baffling, he thought, that these ordinary, plain, boring people would be so turned on by the fact that he was choosing to spend time “on the front lines,” he’d heard them say.

Personally, he enjoyed the work. He was really quite thrilled to be working for the fast food company because deep down, in places so secret he barely let himself know about it, he really wanted to be a chef. Regrettably, a strict childhood with parents who refused to believe that culinary school was a proper education, along with a hearty regimen of “No son of mine’s gonna be some fruity chef” from his father and “That’s a fine hobby, sure, but what are you going to do for a living?” from his mother, had all but killed his dreams. Now he was a scientist, something respectable, for a major corporation. He could all but hear his parents’ bragging in his head, which was the only way to hear it, really, as he’d cut them out of his life years previously.

He wasn’t even sure if they were still alive at this point.

Lost in thought, he made his way to his first rental car and drove around the small town until he saw the familiar, trademarked sign of his company and pulled into the parking lot.

He drove past the abandoned playground where the toys and structures had been torn down and replaced with picnic tables; past the row of beat up cars in the parking lot, including one particularly embarrassing car that was missing the driver’s side door (he made a mental note to get it towed as quickly as possible so it didn’t screw up the perfectly manicured aesthetic of the restaurant); and past the dumpsters and grease traps to finally park along the back row of the property, which faced a city park.

He went to the back door, which had a keypad over the lock, and punched in his personal PIN. All store managers were assigned PINs when they took over a store, and Doctor Ralph had a master override PIN that granted him access to any and every location worldwide.

When he walked inside, the manager, a tall, muscular woman with black hair and a nametag that read “Diana,” was standing over the fryer and checking on a batch of hash-brown patties.

(The hash-browns actually had no potatoes whatsoever in them – they were actually cubes of semi-permeable gelatin that were wrapped in edible plastic wrap, like a breath strip, that shrank and molded itself to the gelatin cubes inside when heated. Ultimately it looked like a hash-brown patty and even tasted like one while providing the necessary textures, but at a fraction of the cost of actual potatoes – which, considering how cheap potatoes were, was quite the achievement for Doctor Ralph to come up with)

Diana stood up when he approached and stretched out a hand to him. “Doctor Ralph,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person. I had heard you were visiting the area, I’m happy you chose to come see us at our store.”

This was not the proper conversation, thought Doctor Ralph. She is far too strong and confident to be working here. He made a mental note to either have her fired or bumped up to corporate within a year.

“It’s my pleasure,” he responded. “I always like to get some hands-on experience in the stores whenever I travel. Where can I be the most use?”

Diana handed him a headset and talk-box that was hanging on a hook nearby. “We could really use someone to take orders from the drive-thru. We’re about to hit our breakfast rush.”

Doctor Ralph checked the clock as he put the headset on and saw that it was a little after 7 am, which lined up perfectly with what the analysts back in the corporate offices had determined to be the start of the “breakfast rush.” He looked forward to telling them they were right.

He logged in with his master user ID on the point of sale and began taking orders immediately. It took him a few tries to become fluid on the touchscreen, but once he got into his rhythm it was very natural for him and he was flying through orders just as fast as they were spoken.

And then there was…the order, as he came to think of it.

There were two voices coming over the headset, which was perfectly normal. He was used to hearing multiple voices as the driver asked other occupants what they wanted to eat, but this conversation stood out to him.

The male voice, quieter, obviously in the passenger seat or back seat, said, “So, wait, you want me to order two meals?”

The second voice, stronger, louder, obviously the driver, said, “Yeah, you can have the normal meal first so if you do start levitating or something, at least you’ll do it on a full stomach.”

That was a rather odd statement, thought Doctor Ralph, but he gave the standard greeting and asked what they wanted to order, as per protocol.

The male voice said, “I dunno what to order.”

The female voice said, “Well what do you usually get?”

“Just get me the sausage biscuit meal.”

“Is that your normal meal?”

“That’s A normal meal, at least.”

“Then what’s your crazy thing?”

“Gimme a sec to think of something, just order the first thing.”

“I’m not gonna make that poor guy wait while we make two orders. Just figure something out.”

“He’s already waiting! He can probably hear everything we’re saying!”

“Then order fast!”

“Fine, get me the sausage-egg-pancake sandwich meal, but gimme the egg white patty and cheddar cheese instead of American.”

“What do you want to drink?”

“Does it matter?”

“I don’t know! Did it matter yesterday?”

“How should I know?”

The female voice sighed heavily, then said, “Fine, you’re getting orange juice.”

Doctor Ralph had heard all of this and said nothing because he was thinking about his spreadsheet. His hands, moving on their own, entered the order as it was placed, and he gave them their total before telling them to pull forward to the second window, but his head was scanning the lines of text he’d spent so many hours pouring over.

He knew that combination. Something in the “syrup” that was cooked into the “pancakes” produced a horrible reaction against the cheddar-flavored “cheese,” but the specifics were evading him now. He couldn’t remember.

When the car finally reached the window he took the cash and saw the people inside. The driver looked young, but harried – like she worked too hard and slept too little. The passenger was…boring, actually. Doctor Ralph instantly pictured a dictionary definition of “ordinary” and placed this man next to it.

There were a lot of radio components in the car, mounted under the dash, he saw, and he realized this was an undercover police car. “Good morning, officer,” he said, trying to sound cheerful. “How are you today?”

The woman smiled at him and said “Oh, fine. Just had a long night and need to refuel, you know how it is.”

Behind him, one of the regular fast food workers was slapping the bag of food on Doctor Ralph’s arm. He ignored it.

“So, uh…that was a pretty interesting order, there. I’d never heard of anybody getting that…combination before. You a fan of the egg whites and cheddar?”

The woman said “Yeah, I, ummm…”

Then the man, who Doctor Ralph had already forgotten was there, spoke up and said, “Actually that one’s for me! They say the egg whites are healthier – better for you, right? They’re all-natural, aren’t they?”

Doctor Ralph shook his head, trying to clear it enough to maintain the conversation, and said, “Huh? Oh! Yes, right, the egg whites. Well, you know we are rather dedicated to serving only the freshest food and the very best ingredients here!”

The person behind him was now setting the bag of food on his shoulder and sliding it down his arm. The food inside was already greasing up his shirt.

“Yeah, right,” said the woman driving. “Is that our food there?” she asked, pointing to the person behind Doctor Ralph.

“Hmmm?” he said before snapping the food out of the hands of the young girl behind him. “Right, of course. Here you go!” he said, handing it out the window.

The woman’s smile faded as she handed the bag of food across the seat to the man there. “Thanks,” she said, putting the car into gear and easing forward.

Doctor Ralph wanted to shout at her, tell her to wait, ask her who she was and why she had ordered that meal, but his brain had frozen. He couldn’t move. It was all he could do to wrench himself out of himself and quickly memorize the license plate number as Detective Mimi Spatchcock and Walter Elliot pulled out of the driveway of the fast food place, and drove away.