Chapter Two- "Would You Like to Supersize That?"
Wadsworth pulled into the McDonald's parking lot with a confused look on his face. He always pictured that working with Scrooge, and subsequently Donald, would entail high-end restaurants, refined parties and upper class people. Greasy hamburgers, salty fries and bad service were nowhere in sight for Wadsworth.
"Tell me again why we're here sir?" Wadsworth asked uncomfortably to Donald as he stepped out of the Rolls Royce and opening the passenger door.
"Because Wadsworth" Donald explained as he slowly made his way out, putting weight on his cane, "It's good to be a part of the world and like it or not, most of the world eats at places like McDonalds."
Wadsworth shrugged and shook his head, "If you were hungry all you had to do was ask sir" he replied, "We could have stopped at La Ratatouille or perhaps The Penthouse Club. Surely they would have better food and better company than anything the Golden Arches could provide."
Donald rolled his eyes, "I hate French food" he defended, "Nothing against Remy, but it'd be nice for a little bit of variety. As for the Club, well let's just say that there are rich people and then there are Penthouse Club members who think that they're better off than they actually are. No people skills, no manners. They're the worst kind Wadsworth, the absolute worst."
Wadsworth said nothing as Westley and Dodger stepped out of the Royce and walked towards the door.
"What are we doing here?" Westley asked curiously causing Donald to turn around and walk backwards for a few seconds.
"Aren't you hungry Grimes?" Donald said, a bit of concern showing in his voice for some reason.
Westley shook his head, for he wasn't particularly hungry. The only thing that he was interested in was finding Jose and Panchito. Everything else was secondary.
"My brother is dying Mr. Duck" Westley answered, deciding to keep things formal for the time being, "I think that warrants some urgency don't you?"
Donald nodded, a bit ashamed of himself. Dodger, in response to this, nudged Westley's leg, bringing Westley down to his level.
"Don't be so hard on the guy" Dodger began, "He's suffering enough, besides I think he wants to show us a good time."
"What are you saying?" Westley asked pressingly
"You know exactly what I'm saying" Dodger continued, "Lay off. Your brother isn't going anywhere anytime soon."
Westley sharply turned towards Donald and Wadsworth, thankful that they weren't paying attention only to turn back to Dodger.
"We'll talk about this later" Westley said sharply as he stepped through the door following Donald and Wadsworth, "Just shut up and remember the plan."
"Some plan" Dodger exclaimed, "It's bad enough that we're lying- sorry exaggerating the truth, but did you have to-"
Westley cut him off with a quick hand over Dodger's muzzle. Dodger gently lifted his paw and placed it on Westley's wrist, his eyes pitiful and showing hints of sadness, it looked as if he were about to cry. Instead, Dodger swallowed what tears he had, shook it off and walked inside, straightening his bandana with a slight flick of his head.
The McDonald's line was relatively short. Donald was almost at the front by the time Dodger and Westley made their way into the main room, no more than three people were behind him. Wadsworth was standing off to the side, saying nothing and trying his best not to look at anything or anyone.
Standing behind the counter was none other than Pete, Mickey's on again-off again rival and former manager of the Three Caballeros. Westley, who pushed and shoved his way to Donald as soon as he saw him, could only stare in disgust and partial hatred. Donald gave a glaring look from the corner of his eye.
"Stay cool Grimes" Donald whispered, "I got this."
Westley huffed, "Do you?" he replied, "With that bum leg of yours I'm surprised you've got anything under control."
Donald raised his eyebrows concerned, surprised at Westley's sudden hostility. Just as he was about to question it, his turn in line had come up.
Pete was dressed in the classic McDonald's red shirt, red visor and khaki pants. If it wasn't for the golden arches over his heart, he could have easily been mistaken for a Target employee. Pete's face was covered in sweat and he looked as if he had just got ran over by a train, had somehow survived it and then got ripped apart by wolves which than decided to shit on his face out of sheer spite.
"Welcome to McDonald's" Pete said, his voice matching his dead fish face, "How may I help you?"
Donald laughed, trying to break the ice as he nonchalantly leaned on the counter with his right hand, his left holding his cane with an equal casualness.
"I'll have a Big Mac with extra cheese, a medium fry, a Diet Coke, and information on where I can find Jose Carioca."
Pete only pushed in the order, having no reaction to the last part of Donald's statement.
"Would you like to supersize that?" Pete asked, his voice unchanging.
Donald shook his head, obviously confused by the question.
"Pete?" Donald said, waving his hand in front of Pete's face, "Hello? It's your old pal, Donald Duck! Don't yah recognize me?"
Pete said nothing, like a mindless zombie only repeated what he said before.
"Would you like to supersize that Big Mac sir?" Pete continued
Donald rolled his eyes, seeing no choice but to answer.
"No Pete I would not like to supersize that" Donald replied annoyingly, "Is that even a thing?"
Pete nodded mindlessly and pulled out a flyer from underneath the counter, displaying the deal.
"Are you sure?" Pete pressed, "It's only fifty cents more."
Donald nodded and shook his head pitifully, it was sad to think that Pete, who had once been a somewhat respectable member of society, had fallen so far to the point where he was nothing more than a mindless slave.
"Pete" Donald said, desperation creeping into his voice, "What the hell happened to you?"
At this Pete stared at Donald, his eyes rolled lazily to the back of his head, a bit of drool was hanging precariously on his lower lip. For a second for two, Donald feared that he was dead. Westley, who had figured out what was happening at this point, shook his head in disbelief and walked up next to Donald. When he reached the counter, finding Pete's face unchanged, Westley did the only thing he could think of doing and slapped Pete as hard as he could.
Almost immediately Pete snapped to Westley, his eyes burning red with anger, his nostrils flaring and his teeth barred as if he were about to bite Westley's arm off. This caused Dodger to leap from the queue line, over Westley and onto the counter, meeting Pete's gaze with equal force and ferocity.
"Take it easy Pete" Dodger said slowly, "Just take it nice and easy, he didn't mean nothing by it okay?"
Pete snorted as if he were a bull and shook his head. With all the calmness in the world Pete straightened himself out and smiled.
"You guys are gullible the lot of yah!" Pete declared, "I can't believe that you fell for it again."
Donald immediately began laughing.
"You got me Pete" Donald replied as his food arrived, "You really got me!"
Pete smiled and tipped his visor, "I aim to please Donald I aim to please."
Pete casually turned to Westley
"How'd you know?" Pete asked, a little bit impressed, "Usually It takes people a good few minutes to see through that one, you got in less than five seconds."
Westley huffed as if he were insulted, "It's the oldest trick in the book Pete" he exclaimed, "But then again you're always up to old tricks aren't you? You'll do anything to get the upper hand wouldn't you?"
Pete raised his eyebrows defensively, it didn't take long for him to realize who Westley was when he did he could laugh and move him along.
"Believe it or not there's a lot of things that Disney doesn't want you to know" Pete replied as Westley walked over to a table "and it's more than you think."
Donald and Dodger were sitting in the corner booth when Westley made his way over. Wadsworth meanwhile, stood next to Donald, waiting dutifully for requests.
"Can I get you anything sir?" Wadsworth said to Donald as he looked around once more
Donald shook his head and laughed.
"Lighten up Wadsworth" he declared, "This is McDonalds not the Mansion. Take it easy."
Wadsworth raised his eyebrows slightly, for he had never been told to relax since he started working with Scrooge.
"Is that even allowed?" Wadsworth continued, "You mean I can just sit down with you? You don't need waiting on or anything?"
Dodger nodded and let out a laugh of his own, slowly he was starting to get used to the mallard.
"That's exactly what he's saying Mallard" Dodger explained, "Now do us all a favor, stop working for one day in your life and sit with us."
Westley, in response, moved over to the window side of the booth to make room for Wadsworth, who sat down slowly as if he were afraid of booths.
"Ugh" Wadsworth declared upon sitting down, "This seat is sticky, any chance of us moving?"
Donald answered him by digging into his food, Wadsworth only rolled his eyes, for it was one thing that he hated it was being ignored.
As the light lunch progressed (light because Donald was the only one who got any food), Westley began to calm himself down, having forgotten his brush up Dodger earlier. The dog however, had the memory of an elephant and wasn't about to drop the subject any time soon.
To avoid unwanted ears from hearing the conversation, Dodger resorted to Morse code, which he disguised with an actual conversation.
"So where are we going?" Dodger said to Donald, who was busy eating fries as if it was the first time he had fries in a long time.
While he was waiting for a reply, Dodger casually placed his paw on the table and began rapping to Westley.
How long are you going to keep this up Grimes?
Westley initially ignored him, forcing Dodger to repeat the rapping, this time a little louder. At the same time, Donald finished eating his fries and answered Dodger's question.
"Not sure really" Donald answered, "That's part of the reason why we're here."
Westley, who had heard Dodger's rapping, answered it with some of his own.
As long as I need to Dodge, you know that. Now will you stop worrying, I've got everything under control.
Dodger only groaned, for that was exactly on what every single person said before messing something up.
Don't call me Dodge! You haven't earned the right yet. Now I'm all for bringing back the Caballeros again if it'll help that kid, but I won't do it if we have to lie. You know just as well as I do that Henry isn't dying.
Westley growled, the last thing he wanted was to have this conversation, on top of that his hand was beginning to hurt.
Wadsworth meanwhile, was trying not to go completely insane, the constant, rapid and repetitive rapping of Dodger and Westley's Morse code was starting to get on his nerves. Donald too, was starting to notice.
"Guys" Donald said worriedly, "Is something wrong?"
"This is really trying my patience" Wadsworth added.
Dodger and Westley completely ignored them and continued their "secret conversation" as if they were the only ones in the room. Westley started it back up again.
Henry's paralyzed from the waist down Dodger! It's not like it's that much of a stretch.
Dodger was three seconds from jumping across the table and biting off Westley's head, if it wasn't for Pete pulling up a chair at the table, at the same time putting the conversation on hold, he most likely would have.
"Do you guys mind?" Pete asked as politely as possible, "That banging is really, really, really annoying. You're not the only ones here you know."
Dodger and Westley were immediately transported to reality and stopped, their hands and paws respectively and understandably bruised from the Morse code.
"Right" Dodger replied apologetically as he shot a look Westley's way, "We'll continue this conversation later."
Donald finally decided to get down to business. Leaning slightly on his cane for emphasis, Donald turned towards Pete. Dodger and Westley meanwhile, slowly began rapping on the table once again, continuing their conversation and immediately breaking their promise.
"So you want to get the Caballeros back eh?" Pete said curiously as he stroked his chin, "Well I'd like to help you Donald but I can't."
Donald shook his head in disagreement, for Pete was not one to not do something without a reason for not doing it. Usually, in Donald's experience, Pete's reasons were pretty good.
"Don't give me that Pete" Donald replied, "Don't back out on me, not after all we've been through. You still owe me for Okinawa."
Pete huffed, "I'm always owing you for Okinawa" he retorted, "I paid that debt Donald, paid it with our friendship, paid it by being your goddamn manager. What else you got?"
Donald shrugged and turned towards Wadsworth.
"Should I tell him?" Donald asked
Wadsworth, who had never been asked his opinion, wasn't exactly sure how to respond. Instead, Wadsworth pulled out his wallet and set down two rolls of hundred dollar bills, twenty in each roll.
"We'll pay you" Wadsworth offered, "There's six more of these waiting for you if you help us."
Pete laughed hysterically in disbelief, "You can't be serious?" he exclaimed, "You carry around that much money with you? What kind of butler are you?"
Wadsworth shrugged casually and pocketed the rolls.
"The kind who works for Scrooge McDuck for five years" Wadsworth answered, immediately becoming serious for a moment, "The kind of butler who takes care of things and does what he is required and the kind of butler who loves his job and the family he serves."
Wadsworth stood up and brushed himself off, he then made his way towards the door. Donald and Pete looked after him, their faces filled with concern and worry.
"Was it something I said?" Pete asked, feeling a little guilty
Donald shook his head in denial, "It wasn't you" he explained, "Wadsworth just takes things too seriously sometimes, especially his job. It's all he has really."
Pete smiled, for the second he heard this he knew that it was false, for Wadsworth had a great deal more than just his job.
It was getting to the point where the rapping of Morse code had caught the attention of everyone in the restaurant. Pete and Donald, throughout this, had learned to drown it out. The patrons and staff however, had not.
"Pete!" One of the cashiers said as he held his ears in pain, "Wake up Pete, wake up!"
Pete turned towards the cashier, who by coincidence was named Peter, and raised his hands in defeat, for a moment he was completely oblivious to what Westley and Dodger were doing. It was at that moment that Vic, Pete's boss, appeared from the bad room.
Vic was the kind of man you wouldn't expect to find working in a McDonald's. The biggest indicator, the guy dressed like a butcher. With his vertical blue striped button up shirt and white apron that was smeared with meat, grease and ketchup, he was almost cartoonish in nature. The fact that Vic had an under-bite didn't help his case much either.
"What the hell is going on here?" Vic asked as he looked around the room, mostly at his staff who were covering their ears, "Explain yourselves!"
Peter gestured towards Pete, causing Vic to turn around sharply. With the speed of a demon, Vic picked up a knife from underneath the counter and threw it directly at Pete's head, Pete ducking seconds before it would have hit him between the eyes.
"Get those idiots out of here!" Vic ordered, screaming at the top of his lungs to Pete, "Get yourself out of here too Tubby. I see you here again and I'm watching heads roll!"
Pete stood up and picked up Dodger and Westley, one under each arm. He then walked over to Vic, spat in his face and sneered.
"I don't take orders from runts, Runt." Pete replied.
Dodger and Westley were still attempting their Morse code, despite the fact that they had no hard surface to do it properly. They substituted Pete's stomach to suit their purposes. Pete gave no response as he walked towards the door with Donald following right on his heels.
Wadsworth was causally smoking beside the Rolls Royce when Pete and Donald exited the building. Upon seeing them, as well as Dodger and Westley, who were still beating on poor Pete's stomach, Wadsworth threw the cigarette he was smoking on the ground and stamped it out. When this was done Wadsworth grabbed both of their heads and knocked them together as hard as he could. Dodger's head, rippled and bounced as if he were a gong, Westley's only received a small cut.
"Gentlemen!" Wadsworth said loudly, his voice alone enough to catch their attention, "Will you please, if Master Henry's sake if nothing else, be at least a little civil?"
Dodger sighed and nudged Pete's side, causing Pete to politely set the dog down. Westley was dropped carelessly.
"What was that for?" Westley said as he stood up looking towards Pete
"Dodger's one of us" Pete explained, "You're not. Remember that next you get in an argument. Toons help toons, always."
Pete stepped into the Rolls Royce. Westley brushed himself off and straightened his glasses. As he climbed into the car, he thought about what he had done and what he was willing to do, in order to see the Caballeros together. He wondered if it was all worth it, if it was worth risking Dodger, who had given him nothing but support up until this point. Westley decided that it was.