Java Chip Frappe

Act Five

Maybe she had overreacted yesterday. Then again that stupid little rat came into her work place and insulted her food? Unacceptable! A place that she would have to work everyday? She wouldn't be able to show her face in front of her co-workers ever again! Why hadn't anyone told her before that her cake-skills sucked? Had Margaret and Eileen forced smiles and thumbs-up when they tasted her food? No! She refused to accept it! It went further then to just insult her…

…it hurt her feelings.

But she would never allow anyone else to know the truth, besides Rye of course. She wouldn't allow anyone else to ever taste her cooking again. Of course, that ideal went out the window when Rye decided to bring the tuna noodle casserole she made for lunch earlier that morning. Beyond all the promises she made to herself the night before, Rye had brought a meal for everyone to taste. Was her older sister doing this for a reason?

Either way there wasn't much she could do about it now; everyone had eaten her food. The 'reviews' seemed positive for the most part but there was still that lingering thought that haunted her memories.

"Betty Crocker makes a better cake."

Damn, why did criticism have to hurt so much?

"Oh, here we are!"

Heather snapped out of her mental ramble at the sound of Pops' voice. She jerked her head right and left, trying her best to regain her reality. That's right, she was walking through the park along side Pops with the promise of seeing the snack bar.

The older male darted out in front of her and skipped his way toward the large building that seemed to be placed in the middle of nowhere. The smell of food cooking entered her nose and caused her mouth to water. What the heck? She just ate! Ugh, maybe Muscle Man was right, she needed a bigger portion.

Heather followed after Pops and soon found herself standing in front of the snack bar. Skips stood behind the desk, taking orders. A short line of visitors stood in line, waiting to give the large male their orders. He was working alone? Maybe he needed help?

"Hea, this way!"

She jerked to the call of her name. She looked forward to see Pops standing at the side of the building; she followed after him once again. A large door labeled 'Employees Only' blocked her way from inside the bar, but Pops wasted no time in opening the door and stepping in.

Dare she follow? She wasn't an employee but… what the heck? Why not?

Heather entered the bar, the smell of the frying hotdogs now taking over her nostrils completely. The bar appeared much bigger when she stood outside, but inside it seemed awfully cramped. How did someone of Skips' size work under these conditions? Ugh, and that was mentioning the heat emitting from the stove.

She looked to the right side of the bar to see that there were in fact a dozen hotdogs on the stove, sizzling away to a golden brown perfection. If she weren't already full of casserole, she wouldn't hesitate to take one for herself. The baker jerked her attention back to Skips to see that he was working away without distraction, so he didn't care if she and Pops entered?

"Its small in here," Heather said aloud. "Is it hard to work in this heat?" She looked to Pops.

"If you're warm you can go to the refrigerator!" He pranced toward a large door in the back of the snack bar. He wrapped his pale fingers around the metal knob and pulled open the door.

A rush of cool air hit Heather's face and pushed back the short strands of hair in front of her forehead. She felt a round of goosebumps erupt on her upper arms as she took in he chilly wind. Ah, so Pops knew of all the 'cool' places to chill? How creative! She took a few steps forward into the fridge to escape the heat of the stove. As she entered the large room, Pops stepped along side with her.

Her girlish excitement could hardly be contained. It was a combination of her childish curiosity and baker instinct to check all of the goods in the snack bar's refrigerator. "Let's see what we have here."

She pressed through the room and allowed her eyes to scan the many shelves. Large cardboard boxes littered the ledges, most marked 'premium hotdogs', whatever that meant. She then found a large supply of condiments and a crate that contained massive blocks of cheddar cheese. Talk about a cook's paradise!

"Hea?" Pops soft tone broke Heather out of her thoughts. "Do you smell something odd?"

Odd? Like what? She paused for a moment before lifting her nose into the air. She inhaled through her nostrils and waited a moment or two. Wait, something did smell…bad…

"I do smell something, now that you mention it." She replied, as her nose led the way to the back of the room. "What do you think it is?"

"I can't say I've smelled anything like that before," He hummed, bringing his finger to his lip. "It almost smells like spoiled food."

Spoiled food? That made sense, seeing as they were standing in the refrigerator for the snack bar. "When was the last time anyone cleaned out this place?"

"Well," Pops' pitch lightened. "I believe that's Rigby's job."

"Ahhhh," Heather's nose curled, more of the stench entering her nose. "Let's find it and get rid of it."

"Couldn't agree with you more!"

Heather pushed forward, much to her stomach's dismay until she reached the back of the chilly room. As she approached the last few shelves in the fridge, she saw that they were filled with plastic containers and open boxes. The smell was at its peek as she reached down into the first plastic container and pulled off the lid.

Just when she thought the smell couldn't get any stronger.

Her stomach tossed and turned at the horrid smell hit the air. Her hand shot up to her nose before she could think twice. She pinched her nostrils shut while her eyes began to well. Ugh! Now all of her heavy casserole was fighting back with her, she could taste the tuna in the back of her throat.

"What is it?" Pops said, his voice strained.

Heather pressed forward and squinted her eyes, clearing her vision. In the container was a mess of old lettuce, or what she could assume to be lettuce, at the bottom. Most of the vegetable had already become a pile of brown-blackish mush that clung to the walls of the box; there was no saving any of it.

"Ick!" Heather nearly gagged after opening her mouth, inhaling more of the smell.

"It doesn't look like we can salvage any of it. What a pity." Pops replied, hanging over Heather's shoulder.

"Don't get too close," Heather glanced back at the older gentlemen. "Here, let me throw it out."

Without having to warn him a second time, she watched as he moved out her way. The female chef glimpsed to the corner of the room to see a large garbage bin; ah it was the perfect place to dispose of the killer cabbage. Using all of her strength she lifted the plastic container and began to trot toward the bin. The sound of the fluids swishing about at the bottom of the box threatened her to gag for a second time. She was going to get rid of it for good!

She stood over the bin, staring down at what little garbage lingered at the base. Dare she 'just drop it' into the trash bin? Then again, that would risk having the lettuce 'juice' fly back up into her face, ick, better be safe than sorry. Heather moved her arms down into the bin, her arms scrapping against the black garbage bag that lined the tub. She flinched as smells of trash entered her nose, the smell of the rotting vegetables never letting up. Once she was able to feel the bottom of the plastic container hit the rubbish in the tub, she released it.

Heather pulled her torso out of the bin and stretched her back. Ugh, she needed to wash her hands as soon as possible!

"Something over here still smells." Pops spoke out, his attention drawn to the vegetable shelf continuing.

More? She resisted the urge to groan and throw her arms into the air. Ah, as long as she was here, she might as well! Heather reached out and took the garbage tub by the handle and began to pull it toward the horrid stinking vegetable shelf.

"This one is just dreadful!" The older male said, pointing toward a cardboard box.

Cardboard? Could it get any worse! That meant that if any thing was leaking, it was more than likely the bottom was soaked through. But, there was only one way to find out. Heather inhaled a deep breath of air and held it in her cheeks. She rushed at the box and lifted it, her fingers sinking into the failing cardboard. She jerked her torso around and dumped the box into the bin. Why even look at it, the stink told the whole story!

She released her held breath before speaking, "Let's get rid of everything that's nasty," Heather turned up to Pops and tried her best to flash a pleasant smile.

"Good idea!" He clapped his hands together.

"Okay," She turned to the condiment shelf and pointed her index finger outward. "You look at all the expiration dates on the condiments. I'll stay over here with the vegetables." Her head sank into her shoulders with displeasure.

He didn't bother to give her a verbal response, but instead stepped toward his directed destination with a cheerful giggle. He went to work within seconds, pulling out each container and reading the dates. Heather then spun back around to look at the long line of work she had coming her way.

She should be getting paid to do this.

XoXoX

The sound the refrigerator door creaking open caught Heather off guard, in fact she jumped straight upward. The light coming in front the outside caused her to narrow her eyes and struggle to recognize the silhouette that was coming at her. Why did the sudden feeling that she had been caught doing something bad source her fear? Wait, maybe she was stepping beyond her own boundaries. She froze over with dread.

Skips entered the fridge and glanced for a single moment at Pops, who continued his work, then back at her. "What are you doing?"

"Getting rid of all the expired food?" She said in a small voice.

"Expired?" Skips asked in question. "There shouldn't be any expired food in here."

"Oh but there was!" Pops was quick to vouch in Heather's defense. "Look at this,"

Skips tore his eyes off the lone female and turn toward his boss' son. He glanced down to see the jar of mayonnaise he held in hand. Heather felt a small weight lifted off her shoulders as the large yeti scanned his eyes over the small date printed on the label.

"This mayo is over a year old!" Skips' cheek twitched.

"And there was more," Pops looked up to Skips with a glowing smile. "Hea found a multitude of spoiled vegetables!"

Beads of sweat moved down the side of her head. What was he going to say? Would he be mad? He was so large and seemed so overbearing, she could only imagine he would grow mad with all the movement back in the fridge. She allowed her head to sink down between her shoulders and waited for his response.

"Is that right?"

"Y-yes," She said with a shallow nod.

"Well," He inhaled a deep breath through his nose. "This should have been cleared out long before now. But I appreciate you doing it."

Heather felt a lung-full of nervous giggles exit her lips. "That's all you guys need, a lawsuit after someone eats bad mayo." She then straightened out her back, feeling more confident than moments ago. "I've seen it before, it's not fun."

"Oh?" He cocked a brow.

"It must have been terrible!" Pops ran along side Heather with a set of wide eyes.

"Yeah," She smiled, the sweat moving down her temple.

"Anyway," Skips cleared his throat; "I came back here to get more dogs for the grill."

She watched as the large man pushed by Pops and walked to the 'meat' shelf. He tore open a box and pulled out a small package of franks. This time being sure to reread over the expiration date, he moved back toward the refrigerator entrance.

So he was going back to cooking? Why did that strike her heart? Wait; was this the sudden urge to want to cook? Then again, she had promised herself otherwise. She couldn't cook again, not after what happened the other day at the shop. Not after promising herself she would demote her status to waitress and stay addicted to frozen meals!

Not after having her food criticized.

Then again, she had the right to make one last meal, didn't she? This one last time and besides, it wasn't really cooking, was it? It was throwing a few dogs on the stove! It was merely heating the meat through! She could do this, this one last time.

Heather launched one foot forward and called out, "Skips!"

The large male turned around at the call of his name and watched her with steel stare. "What?"

"Would you mind if…" A bright red streak ran over her cheeks. "If I cooked them?"

He continued to stare her down, his eyes never letting up. His frown stayed as still as the stale air in the room. Was he disgusted perhaps? Maybe he didn't enjoy the casserole she had made earlier and refused to have her cook for the visitors of the park.

"It would give you time to serve other customers and make things go twice as fast…" She tried for a second time to state her case.

She watched as he remained still. She felt her head sink back into her neck again. She had made him angry, she knew it. Ugh! Why did she have to be so stupid sometimes! This was the perfect sign from above, telling her she should never cook/bake again! She shut her eyes tight and bit down on her lower lip, as she wanted for the embarrassment to be over.

"Come on then."

Her eyes snapped open. Her eyes rushed up from the floor and landed on Skips' face. He know had a small smile tugging at his lips and his energy had shifted. Within seconds of him speaking, she felt the heat from her face fade. Her own smile cracked along her face and she resisted the urge to squeal with joy.

"Okay," She clenched her fists in front of her chest. "If I'm going to be cooking, I'll make my Mom's favorite."

"That sounds wonderful!" Pops yipped with glee. "What is it?"

"You'll find out," Heather waved a single finger at the two men. "I'm going to get the ingredients and I'll be with you two in a minute." She focused her attention on Skips for a second, "Tell any customers that we're having a bacon cheddar hotdog special!"

Skips nodded his head a single time. "Alright." He then stepped out of the fridge and back to the register.

"What do we need?" Pops interlaced his fingers and beamed.

"A few things," Heather lifted her hand to her chin. "Cheese, bacon, buns and those premium dogs."

Pops rushed behind the female and placed both hands on her back. He began to apply a gentle pressure to her body, forcing her out into the daylight. She flinched upon contact, looking backward with a confused gaze. "What-"

"You get started," He explained, "I'll get the ingredients."

"But…"

"Go on now!" He peeped.

She didn't need to be told three times. Moving one foot in front of the other she began to make her way out into the sun. She glanced over her shoulder a single time to see the older male running about the room, gathering and juggling all of the needed ingredients in both hands. She had to admit to herself, it was quite cute.

Only if everyone else was as supportive, maybe then this wouldn't have to be her last time cooking.

Act End