Super Meals: Part Twenty-Three

Walter Elliot woke up starving.

Not literally, of course, but quite near so. He had dreamed of…food? No, not quite. He couldn’t remember what he’d dreamed, but he remembered feeling confused and that there was food involved, but it wasn’t a dream about eating food, just ordering it.

Yes, that was it; he’d been at a restaurant. The same cheap fast-food joint where he’d had his cheerful meal that gave him super strength for a little while. And now that he thought about it, he was hungry and curious. Where did his power come from? Was it just the food? Was it the food and the drink? Was it just one of the foods? Or all of them together?

As he went about his morning business, he continued to ponder the events of the previous day and while he wanted to know, he was also scared to find out. What if he ate the wrong thing and it did something bad? What if that conversation he’d had with that detective ended up coming true and he ordered breakfast and his face exploded or lasers shot out of his ass or he grew so much hair he ended up looking like a wookie…

There were so many possibilities and no answers.

Unless he found out.

He had made up his mind to try the food again and see what happened. He had time to hit the drive-thru on his way to work, and he was certainly hungry enough, so he thought he’d get something straight off the menu as well as a special order. He’d eat the normal meal first, see what happened, then have the second one later.

When he was clean and dressed he grabbed his keys and walked outside.

Then he remembered that his car was still in the parking lot across town with the door ripped off its hinges.

“Ah shit,” he said, looking up and down the block as if a ride was going to magically appear, or a taxi was going to be conveniently driving by.

That was when Detective Mimi pulled up and honked.

Walter jumped in surprise, then his face twisted in confusion as he walked around to the driver’s side window, which Mimi was already rolling down.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Need a lift?” she asked in return.

“I…yeah, actually,” he said. “I do. How did you know?”

“You ripped the door off your car last night, remember? I swung by the restaurant and saw some old piece of shit with no driver’s side door in the parking lot, so I figured you hadn’t picked it up yet and would need a ride. You hungry?”

“Wha—yeah, I am. But—”

“Then get in,” she finished.

He raised a finger as if he was about to say something, but couldn’t speak. He turned to her and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Finally he turned and went around to the passenger side and climbed in.

“So what are you really doing here?” he asked when they had started moving.

“I…” she began to say, but then stopped herself. There was no getting around the fact that she needed his help. Two mysterious deaths linked to apparent superhuman abilities and this particular fast food chain left her with questions but no answers except for this nobody who had eaten the same food from the same restaurant and developed powers of his own…but was still alive.

Protocol dictated that she maintain the confidentiality of the investigation, but she very much doubted he’d go along with her wanting to use him as a human guinea-pig unless she ponied up some answers. She could be honest without giving up too much, she decided, until she absolutely had to.

“I need your help,” she finished. “Remember that dead homeless guy yesterday?”

“Yeah, actually. Kinda hard to forget about him, seeing as his last meal was from my favorite burger joint.”

“There’s been another death involving that place. Along with other…anomalies.”

“Wait, you mean someone else got superpowers?” he asked.

“You could say that. Personally, I can’t help but think that it’s something with the food itself,” said Detective Mimi as she pulled into the drive-thru lane at the fast-food place. “So…can I buy you breakfast?”