So Fargo is a classic movie that I've probably seen a hundred times and in which me and my brother quote all the time. Steve Buscemi and Peter Stormare are hilarious together, especially in the scene where Gaear wants to go to 'pancake's house' and Carl just wants a steak and a beer. This is just a one-shot based off that scene with a little bit of elements from the film Falling Down which is also freakin' fantastic. Hahaa. Here we go...
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'Which Way To Pancake's House?'
Rated T for strong language.
"So, I've been doing all the driving, as you know, so you think it'd be alright if you uh, you know, paid for the meal?" Carl looked to his partner, Gaear, as the two made their way into a local diner in hopes of satisfying their hunger.
"This isn't pancake's house." Gaear replied in his usual monotone voice, ignoring Carl's question as he threw his cigarette on the ground before walking inside.
"I'm sure they got some pancakes. Jesus fuckin' Christ, what is it with you and the pancakes?" Carl remarked in an annoying, snippety tone just before the hostess greeted them, "Hi, welcome to Frank's Diner. Greatest food in town ya know. Just the two of ya today?" She asked, her thick Minnesota accent coming through as Carl nodded, an impatient look on his face.
Once the pair were seated, Gaear looked through the menu, completely silent as Carl, as usual, did all the talking.
"Breakfast, lunch and dinner." He began, looking through the pages of his menu at the wide variety of meals, "Looks like we came to the right fuckin' place huh?" He said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood but was met with total silence and a bored expression from Gaear.
"You're not going to pull that silent shit again are ya? Come on. We're in a restaurant for Christ sakes, the least you can do is hold a conversation. Just one fuckin' conversation, that's all I'm askin. I got Chatty Cathy over here; God damn, I might as well be sitting here by myself." Carl continued to complain about his partner's lack of speech; and much to his annoyance, Gaear continued to sit there, eyes on his menu, no words out of his mouth. If Carl didn't know any better, he'd think the man was deaf and mute.
Luckily his need for human conversation was appeased when the waitress came over to take their order. "What can I get for ya gentlemen?" The waitress, a plump woman in her mid-40s asked.
"I'll have the steak and he'll have the pancakes." Carl replied, deciding to order for Gaear because he already knew damn well what the man had planned to order. If there was one topic he'd talk about, it was about those fucking pancakes.
"I'm sorry sir, but its 11:30, both of you need to order something from the lunch section of our menu." The waitress informed them as Carl gave her a look of disbelief.
"Oh you gotta be kidding me. Look, me and my buddy are hungry for pancakes and steak. You're not gunna pull this bullshit, come on. We're paying customers here." His bug-eyes stared at the woman, agitation gracing his features as the woman sighed, "Look sir, I'm sorry but the pancakes are on the breakfast section and the steak is on the dinner. We're only serving lunch now. It's the restaurant's policy." She tried to remain patient with the difficult customer, as Carl was ready to argue back. All the while, Gaear sat motionless in his seat, eyes fixed, unblinkingly at the table before him.
"Shit, I know you guys have the stuff to make the meals we want; cut me a break, just get us what we ordered." Carl tried to reason with the waitress, keeping his anger in check for the moment, his hands moving wildly as he spoke.
"Sir, the policy..." The waitress tried to reason back, only to be interrupted, "Fuck the policy!" He snapped back, voice rising as he pounded a fist on the table. A few of the other patrons of the restaurant turned from their meals to look over at the scene unfolding.
"I'm going to have to get my manager." The waitress said, feeling insulted at the man's behavior.
"Good! Get the manager. Maybe that guy will be a little more fuckin' reasonable because frankly lady, you're kinda being a hardass." The lady scoffed at the man's audacity as she left to bring back her manager.
Once she left, Carl leaned forward in his seat, speaking to Gaear, "Do you believe this fucking shit? Some people man, I'm tellin' ya." Gaear snapped his eyes from the table to look at Carl momentarily before looking back down, giving no other type of response. Carl waved him off as he looked over at the approaching waitress and whom he assumed to be, the manager.
"Shirley here just informed me that the two of you are trying to order items off the breakfast and dinner menus, but we are currently serving lunch..." The manager told him calmly as Carl gave him an 'are-you-stupid' type of look.
"I'm well aware of that. Shirley just fuckin' informed me of that. But look man, we just want a fuckin' stack of pancakes, a steak, and maybe a beer. That's not too much to ask. I mean really, I'm not askin' you to cut off your arm and serve it to me on a silver fuckin' platter. Come on. Be reasonable." Carl's irritation was more than evident as the manager sighed, trying to keep his calm, patient demeanor.
"I'm sorry sir, but if we made an exception for you, we'd have to make an exception for everyone. But we'd be more than happy to get you something off the lunch menu..."
"Goddamn it!" Carl hollered out, pounding his fist on the table once more, "What is it with you fucking people? We'll just take our business elsewhere then. Your fuckin' loss buddy." Carl spoke annoyed as he gestured over to Gaear, "C'mon." He spoke, standing up from his seat, pushing past the manager.
When he noticed Gaear hadn't followed, Carl turned around, seeing Gaear stand up from his seat rather quickly and approach the manager, abruptly grabbing the man's shirt collar with one hand and pressing a gun to his belly with the other.
"I want some fucking pancakes." He spoke, his normal monotone voice of indifference now having a dangerous edge to it.
"Woah, woah. Jesus Christ!" Carl exclaimed, clearly not seeing the necessity of pulling out guns in a situation like this.
"Shirley, please bring out a stack of pancakes for the gentleman...and a steak as well..." The manager stated, hands raised slightly as a gesture of surrender, the calmness of his voice also containing that of fear.
Shirley, the waitress, nodded quickly, eyes wide in fear as she turned towards the kitchen, "Right away sir!"
"And a beer too!" Carl called after her, figuring he might as well order exactly what he wanted since Gaear had quickly accelerated the situation to gunpoint.
"Just keep calm sir, we'll get you what you want." The manager tried to reason with the blonde man holding the gun. The usual buzz of the restaurant had completely stopped, everyone completely still as they watched the scene unfold before them. No one dared to move.
"Shut up." Gaear snapped, annoyed at the man who quickly complied. Carl, however, didn't know the meaning of those two words and opened his mouth to his partner, "Pulling out guns in a restaurant man? Come on, I thought you were a fuckin' professional." He complained as Gaear looked over at him with a bored expression, "I'm getting you your fuckin' steak."
Carl rolled his big eyes momentarily before replying, "Yeah, that's great and all, but really..." For once, he seemed to be at a loss for words, much to the satisfaction of Gaear. Instead of saying anything else, Carl sat back down in his seat with an exasperated sigh, paranoid eyes searching out the window to make sure the cops weren't going to show up.
It didn't take too long for the meals to arrive. The waitress set them down on the table with shaky hands as Gaear removed the gun from the manager to sit down in front of a big stack of pancakes.
"Now that wasn't too hard now was it?" Gaear asked rhetorically as he began to dig in, not saying another word throughout the entire meal.
Carl stared at his partner momentarily before downing the beer and starting on the steak.
"Crazy fucker..."
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Hope you enjoyed! Review?