Out of the frying pan

Chapter 3:

The next morning was hectic. At eight thirty in the morning Marik and Malik were already at I.H.O.S. They were rushing around getting everything ready for the opening in half an hour.... Or, at least Malik was.

"Marik, could you help out a little?!" he shouted in panic as he stocked the big freezer with ingredients.

"Hey, look at this." Marik replied holding up a flyer, "See?"

"I don't have time."

"Make time!"

He whipped his head around to look at the paper, "What am I looking at?"

"This is a flyer for McDonalds. Look at the sign near the front of the door."

"...So?"

"They've served over six billion! That's the earth's entire population!"

"..."

"Get it? If we were to serve the entire population food... they'd love us!"

"..."

"And make us their leader! This is a perfect way to achieve world domination, Malik. If we out sell McDonalds, and rule the food service... we rule the world! No one can say no to tasty things! What do you think?"

"...You are insane. I'm trying to get ready and you're going on and on about world domination! In case you haven't noticed, there happens to be a line outside the door just waiting for us to open up. If you can find the time in your twisted mind to help me out, we'll have fewer things to do and more time to talk about... your obsession. Do I make myself clear-"

Marik was already to work now that he knew there was a line, 'He, he!' he thought, 'And here I thought this stupid restaurant wasn't going to be good for anything.'

"Well.. at least he's working..." Malik sighed, 'World domination... good grief.'

The thirty minutes went by extremely fast. Malik ended up stuffing the freezer, dusting all fifteen tables, fixing the cash register, moping the floor, cleaning the toilets, and shooing the drunken hobo away from the dumpster. Marik, however, starred at the flyer and fantasized about being the supreme overlord of food.

"Okay, Malik, ready?" Marik asked, standing near the door.

He got back in the kitchen, spatula in hand, "Yup, okay. Let them in."

Marik unlocked the doors and a bunch on people walked in and looked around. The more hefty people went straight to the cash register to order. Obviously, they didn't want to wait for their food.

Marik sprinted over behind the register and assumed the position, "Welcome to I.H.O.S, home of the sandwich. What type of sandwich would you like today?"

"Isn't this the home of the 'samich'?"

"Ugh..." Malik groaned from behind his yami, "Is that what people are thinking? Good grief."

"It's sandwich. Are you gonna buy something or obsess over our lack of grammar?" Marik asked, annoyed.

The heavy-set woman looked up at the large menu hanging above Marik, "... I'd like two mustard and cheese hogies. With extra cheese."

He crinkled is nose at the nasty order but forced a smile, "Okay," he turned around to face the small window behind him, "Malik, you hear that?"

"Yep," he held out the order in front of himself, "Already got it."

Marik took the tray and handed it back to the lady, "That'll be fifty bucks, please."

"Marik!" Malik yanked on his ear, "Stick to the prices!"

"Fine, okay..." he sighed, "Five dollars, please."

She handed it over and went off to sit down at an empty table. Marik called, "Next." And another person appeared, "Welcome to I.H.O.S, home of the sandwich. What type of sandwich would you like today?"

"I thought this was the home of the 'samich'."

"No, it isn't."

"But, your sign-"

"Forget the sign and order your damn sandwich!"

"Oh, dear...I'd like a BLT." Said the fat man, "Minus the bacon and tomato."

"Um, but that only leaves lettuce," Marik was confused, "Why would you want that?"

"I'm trying to watch my weight these days. I'm getting married in two weeks and I need to look my best."

"Hmm. You're trying to watch your weight, huh? Bad news buddy, it isn't working. If you're really serious I suggest you buy our two for one diet special. Guaranteed to make you skinny!"

"R-really? Skinny?"

Marik nodded, "All you have to do is buy the special."

"Oh boy! I'll take it!"

Malik whispered in his yami's ear, "What special?"

"Watch and learn." Marik whispered back.

"How much is it?" The man asked.

"Fifty bucks. It's worth it, you'll see." He grinned evilly.

The man forked over the money as Marik reached behind the counter and pulled out a bag of two unknown sandwiches. "Here ya go."

He took it and smiled in thanks as he skipped off to another table.

The rest of the day was calm as calm could be with Marik and Malik in charge of things. Marik sold three more of his 'specials', Malik asked again and again what they were but Marik answered only with a wicked grin.

At around one o' clock a smelly, old man came in through the doors of the restaurant and up to the register.

Marik turned around from a conversation with Malik, "Welcome to I.H.O.S, home of the sandwich. What type of sandwich would you like today?"

"Hey, I know you!" Malik interrupted, "You're that hobo that I moved from the garbage cans earlier today! What are you doing back here?"

The man scratched his head, "I want my house back."

"You mean our dumpster? Sorry, bum. But we need it. Find yourself a cardboard box to live in." Marik said.

"Marik," Malik argued, "This guy is like sixty years old. We should respect our elders."

"No, we should bury them." He turned back to the hobo, "Sorry, man. There's nothing we can do about you being homeless. You shouldn't have whittled your money away on booze."

"I resent that! My money was spent on porn magazines." He said proudly.

"Those magazines aren't doing ya any good right now, huh? At least with boos you could have drunk yourself into a coma and died in peace."

"...Can I have a sandwich?" he asked.

"You got money?"

He dug in his pockets and pulled out some lint and something else that looked questionable. "Will this cover it?"

"Hell, no." Marik looked at the contents of his hands, "What is that stuff next to the lint?"

"I dunno. I found it yesterday in a gutter. It looked useful, so I've been carrying it around. But you can have it if it gets me a sandwich."

"Ugh," Marik realized that making this guy go away wouldn't be an easy task. So he decided to give him what he wanted, "Here, man."

He handed over another one of his 'specials' to the hungry hobo. The smelly man took it and smiled in thanks. He walked back out of the restaurant, munching on his sandwiches.

Malik pulled his yami back into the kitchen. He roughly pinned him up against the wall and before he could state his reasons, Marik spoke up, "Easy, Malik. We're in a public place. Can't you wait till we get home?"

"Marik! That's not what I'm doing!" he eased his grip, "I want to know what you're doing with all these specials you're handing out. It took me forever to come up with an acceptable menu, and I don't remember adding anything about special diet meals."

"I knew your curiosity would get the best of you, Malik."

"Huh?"

"You were asleep last night when I went on and found this great spell. I-"

"No, no, no, no, no! Marik, not that site again! I'm going to have to put some parental blocks on our computer."

"Will you let me finish?! As I was saying... I cast the spell on the 'specials'."

"...What does it do?"

"Curiosity, yet again. Anyone who eats the cursed food will come back to eat it again and again. And there's only one place where they can get it... here! And if we sell them at fifty dollars a pop, we'll make so money we won't know what to do with it. There's no way we can lose! Genius, right?"

"No. Why'd you do that? We're going to be swamped."

"What we're going to be is powerful. If we keep selling these special meals, we'll be more serving more than McDonalds and the control of the planet will shift to us!"

"You must be joking! You honestly believe the control of Earth is in McDonalds?"

He nodded.

"... You know, from time to time I wonder how I ended up with someone like you."

"You're one of the lucky ones, Malik."

"Uh... well, how many of those spell sandwiches do you have?"

"Enough to last a lifetime!"