"I think we out-did ourselves on this one Will: we've done something MORE pathetic than ever before…!!!!" said Jack, putting in some money into the cash register.
"Oh, come on, Jack… it's not so bad!" said Will, putting some pieces of chicken into a deep fryer.
"It is when you're being a cashier… Welcome to Kentucky Fried Chicken… may I take your order?" said Jack, sighing.
"Yeah, I'll have two HBBQ boneless chicken wings and a large soda." Jack punched something into the cashier and the total came up on the screen.
"That'll be $12.67 …your two heart attacks will be ready in a minute and you can murder your complexion over at the soda machine…have a nice day!" Jack said, cocking his head to the side, smiling. The man stepped aside, giving him a funny look, as a young woman stepped up.
"Must you say that to EVERY customer?" Will sighed, preparing the man's order.
"Yes." Jack said, simply. "May I take your order?" he said to the next person, the fake, disgusted smile reappeared on Jack's face.
Will returned to his work in the back, trying his hardest to block out Jack's words with his own.
"Jack should be happy: at least it's better than Elizabeth's job…" he thought.
"FOR THE LAST TIME, NO: THE TACO BELL CHIHUAHUA NEVER EXISTED!!!" he could hear Elizabeth screaming in his mind. Will put his hand on his heart.
"Wherever you may be, Elizabeth, know that we're with you… you poor woman."
"That will be $7.86… we will get you you're extra chin in a few minutes and you can massacre your pores over at the soda machine… have a nice-"
"WILL YOU STOP THAT!?!?" Will yelled at him. Jack looked back at him as Will came up to the woman, apologizing.
"I'm soooo sorry, Miss: ignore him (he's bisexual)…" he muttered the last part underneath his breath so Jack wouldn't hear. Unfortunately, Jack overheard and punched Will in the arm.
"Don't you be preaching, eunuch-boy!" said Jack. The woman stared at both of them before leaving without her food.
"Come on, do you WANT us to get fired!?" Will said, punching Jack on the shoulder.
"Geez, settle down… if anything, I'm doing these people a FAVOR: before the cut their lives short. Besides, I can't stop NOW: I made a list!" said Jack, holding a medium-sized scroll out in front of him.
"Gimme' that!" Will read some of it. "Give your face an oil bath?" he said, looking at Jack.
"Oh, come ON… that was a GOOD one!" Jack said. Will shoved the list into his pocket.
"No more comments! You just take the orders and give them to me! Got it?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah… whatever…" Jack said.
"WE need the money right now if we're EVER going to pay of that Haitian guy you stole from…"
"HEY! How was I supposed to know he was an ambassador to England? Huh, Will? HOW was I supposed to now?" Will rolled his eyes and shook his head, returning to his work.
Jack and Will laid low for a few minutes, Jack trying to make up new snide remarks (just in case Will got sick one day and was off) and Will complied to the duties that came with being a fry cook. It was about ten minutes away from Jack and Will's lunch break, and Davy Jones and his crew came in for a late lunch.
"Oh, bugger." said Jack, trying to cover his face, praying that they only came here to use the bathroom or something and WOULDN'T see him In this stupid-
"Why, is that you, Captain Jack Sparrow?" asked Davy Jones, smiling… smiling like a fox.
"Hello, DAVID." Will looked up from his work, only to duck down behind the fryers.
"The name's Davy, and me and my crew were just stopping in for lunch… though we never expected being served by YOU!!" Davy Jones threw his head back and laughed. Jack could not have felt stupider in his uniform. After three minutes, the crew was STILL laughing at Jack's expense and began to leave.
"I've lost all my appetite: seeing you at your most pitiful took my desire to eat completely away!!!" barked Davy, laughing once again. Jack put his head on the counter, banging it. Davy Jones and his crew were heard laughing even outside the restaurant.
Whilst Jack drowned himself in his own self-pity, the nerdy, forty-year-old manager came out and pulled Jack's head up with his dreadlocks:
"Sparrow, Turner: Lunch break!" the manager let go of Jack's dreadlocks, and his head along with it.
"Hey, Sparrow!" Jack turned his head to face the manager.
"What are those things on your hands and hair?" Jack looked down at his hands.
"My rings and lace… cloth and stuff like that… and these are beads…"
"Why do you wear them?" Jack shrugged. He couldn't tell him the REAL reason he wore some of his trinkets… it could get him arrested.
"I want them off by the time you're breaks over…oh, and take off that mascara too, you're scaring away customers!"
Jack, his head still weighted, dragged himself out of the building, sitting down on the curb.
They could take away his overcoat, blouse, vest, belt, shawl thingy, bandana, boots, dignity, morals, self-respect and values: but there was one thing he realized that made him Jack Sparrow that he COULD NOT let them take away: his accessories.
His eye twitched at the mere thought of himself without his rings.
"Don't worry, babies… I'll make sure that big, scary man doesn't hurt you…" he said.
"Are you talking to me?" Will said, sitting next to him, his eyebrows raised. Jack snapped out of it.
"Of course not!"
"Then who are you talking to?" Jack stood up, a determination ablaze in his eye.
"My mascara!!" Jack stormed into the KFC, grabbing his back-up clothes he always had on hand in case his personality and queer (as in weird, not gay) preferences were endangered. He stood on top of the counter and announced (in an effort to CLEAR OUT the restaurant):
"Anyone who wants to see me change into my other clothes, come forth!"
However, his plan backfired when no one cleared out, and insisted upon pulling their chairs closer, in order to get a better look.
"Okay, plan backfired… I am NOT going to remove my clothes!" many unsatisfied groans came from the audience, as some left and some resumed their meals. Jack decided to change in the bathroom.
It took him several minutes to change into his original clothing, but Jack succeeded in the time needed-he was a professional at putting on clothes and taking the off (I should know :P).
Jack also realized he had his sword AND gun in the bag and a thought dawned on him that hadn't before:
"What if you just STEAL the money?" Jack, the pirate he was, thought it a capital idea!
Jack waltzed out of the bathroom, pride in his step, a mile on his face, and his unsheathed sword at his side. Jack faced his dreaded soda-machine enemy and hacked it until soda flowed more freely than a waterfall from the machine. Jack split open ALL the cash-registers and took everything in it, using the bag he had to stuff it in.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YO DOING!?!?" asked Will, grabbing Jack by the shoulders.
"Get dressed and meet me at Burger King: we're going pirating." Will knew he could not fight the charisma of this insane pirate man; he complied and got dressed.
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"YOU WILL GIVE ME ALL YOUR MONEY OR I SHALL DESTROY YOUR DEEP FRIERS AND SODA MACHINES!!!!" Jack Sparrow did anyway, ordering Will Turner to shoot every and all windows he could.
Will wouldn't normally have listened to Jack, that is, if he wasn't having so much fun this particular day.
The had hit all the fast food chains they could find whilst in Chicago; Burger King, McDonald's, Wendy's, Subway, Carl Jr's, Brown's Chicken, Domino's and whatever else they could find along the way.
They heard sirens coming their way:
"RUN, WILL, RUN!!!!!" Jack, the large bag of money at his back, ran in any direction, down any alleyway, followed by Will Turner.
"IT'S THE FUZZ!!!!" yelled Will.
Of course, because they were the two most sexiest men in the entire world, once they were captured, the male and female police officers alike could not refuse their sexiness, so let them go once catching them.
So, two 18th century pirates single-handedly destroyed the fast food industry in North America (all the corporate executives in charge of the fast food chains were too fat from their own greasy food to do ANYTHING).
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I do not hate America or anything like that… I just HATE fast food chains… and stuff… this story was inspired by my friend, 'cuz when she and I went to McDonalds one day, she said "come on: let's go destroy our complexions!" (she talked me out of buying anything) and we ate at home. Oh, and is there a Carl Jr's in Chicago? That's a REALLY sad question to ask, cuz I AM a Chicagoan.