9 – Jack B. Nimble

Jack Bratt Nimble had started out the lunch shift easy: as the clock was striking twelve he had his eyes closed and was humming easily, "You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant…" He heard the bell tinkle as the door opened. He opened his eyes and his jaw dropped.

"Hello, Jack," Mr. Pine hailed him. "Didn't know you worked here. I've got a bit of a business lunch happening and hope you don't mind." Behind him followed eight of the most oddly assembled looking men Jack had ever seen – hardly anything to unite them except for their united air of strength and intimidation.

Mr. Pine stepped to the counter first. "I'll have a club sandwich, Jack, all the fixings, and a ginger ale. And feel free to get a little something for yourself today, too." As he spoke, his team lined up behind him. One by one, they came and placed their orders.

"One croque-monsieur, s'il vous plait, with a glass of sangria."

"Hey, how'd you get in line ahead of me? Eh, whatever… I'll have a hot brown, if you've got those, and some cold Tennessee whiskey."

"One Sloppy Joe, soldier, and make it snappy!"

"I vould like…"

"And coffee."

"… I vould like…"

"And it had better taste like turpentine!"

"I am talking to de vaiter! You go avay! … I vould like salted herring, boiled beets, and boiled cabbage on rye. And I would like five of dose. With five shots vodka."

"A butterbrot with sliced sausage on the side. And a Berliner Weisse. Danke."

"Just Vegemite and butter on toast, mate, with an Old Geezer draft."

"Mmmff mfeef."

"What?"

"Mmmff mffeef!"

"… Sorry, you're going to have to repeat that."

"Mmmff… mffeef!"

"Roast beef? No? Okay, how about you just point to it on the menu there… Oh! Grilled cheese! Okay, comin' right up."

"Mmff mffoo. Mm mmfra mmmfy."

"And… extra toasty?"

"Mms!"

"Anything to drink with that?"

"Mmmm."

"Milk? All right."

"Get me a tall Scotch Ale, alongside a haggis burrito and chips, laddie."

"Okay…"

"And I'll have a light Niçoise salad, please, with mineral water."

Jack blinked. The last diner was the foxy lady that Mr. Pine had hired the previous year. She gave him a smile that made him forget his own name. "And why don't you get something for yourself? Mr. Pine invited you to it."

"Err… all right." He hadn't had lunch yet, and couldn't possibly refuse anything of a dame like that. So he put in an order for his usual – a Chow Mein sandwich on white bread. Classic.

It took some time, of course, for the Chow Mein to be ready, so in the meantime he served all the customers. The drinks he served one right after the other. Then he dished out the salad so fast that the foxy lady honored him with a nod and another smile. Next, the butterbrot, for the man in the medical scrubs. "Very fast!" He smiled. "You could be Olympian."

"Just my usual, Doc. You should see me at the top of my game!"

"Dis is not de top of your game?"

"Far from it!"

The man took out his watch. "I vant to see the top of your game."

"Right now?"

"Yes."

Jack heard Alice yelling from the back, "Grilled cheese and hot brown, order's up!" He saw the other customers eye him, starting to frown, their stomachs grumbling like the dawn of a revolution.

He grinned.

"Well, watch and learn, Doc!"

He took off like a shot. He raced through the shop like a sirocco, depositing the grilled cheese and the hot brown in front of their respective patrons, and then leaped into the kitchen himself. "Lemme see that!" With a gloop and a sizzle he had the Sloppy Joe assembled and toasting in the oven. While it was roasting he slapped together the bacon, white toast, lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers for Mr. Pine's club sandwiches and sliced them into their perfect triangles. With a seamless gesture he speared them all on their respective toothpicks (complete with garnishes) and slipped the Sloppy Joe out of the oven. He yelled over his shoulder, "Get the haggis ready, Alice, and put that Vegemite where I can see it!" as he gave Mr. Pine and Johnny their meals.

By now he had the eyes of all the company on him. They watched as he swept together the ingredients for the Vegemite and cheese sandwich – he managed to even keep from wrinkling his nose as he lathered on the Vegemite ("Good and thick mate, that's the way to do it!"), and served it with a smile. The croque-monsieur was on Jacques' plate before Mr. Johnson had even time to take the first bite out of his.

Then, he single-handedly invented the haggis burrito before their very eyes. There was a round of applause as he slid it in front of the Demoman. "Och aye, lad, you do the fine dish of the haggis proud!" Sean said with a grin, biting into it.

"Oy! Jack! Your chow mein sandwich is ready!"

"Sweet! But… I feel like I've forgotten someone… someone important…" He took the plate with his Chow Mein sandwich and furrowed his brow, thinking. "Someone…"

A loud growl of "Nom!" interrupted his thoughts as the sandwich was lifted from his plate. "Hey!" he protested, then he saw who had taken it: it was the heavy, slow-talking Russian whose order for five sandwiches was taking a long time to prepare. He opened his maw and prepared to gobble the Chow Mein sandwich whole – only to have the plate tapped against his bald pate.

"Gimme that back," Jack said, in a low, dangerous voice.

As one, the patrons of the pub leaned forward.

Ivan's eyes narrowed.

What happened next was a brawl, a simple one-on-one spar that Alice's Restaurant had never seen equaled – nor has to this day. Jack leapt, scratched, bit, and, most importantly, dodged. He used plates, trays, juice bottles, and a well-placed pepper shaker against Ivan's slow but powerful girth. Mr. Pine did not stop them, and Mirage knew better than to stop them. The rest of the team chewed their various sandwiches, their eyes fixed on the fight, cheering like they were at a football rally – and not really caring who was winning or losing.

It was then that a hero was born – not Jack, though he was certainly doing well for himself. It was then that Alice, briefly awed like everyone else by the bout, realized that her dear restaurant could not long survive such a clash. So, she set a record of her own. Never before had five salted herring, boiled beet, and boiled cabbage sandwiches on rye been made in such record time, nor had a sandwich of that kind been given as a ceasefire offering. She kept the so-contentious Chow Mein sandwich on her other plate, just far enough away that Jack would have to cease pummeling Ivan in order to reach it. She even reached into her own pocket and brought the Atomic Punch out from behind the bar – Jack's favorite.

At once the fighters disengaged and each leapt upon his own repast. Thus a hero had her hour – an unsung hero, but a hero nonetheless.

And when Ivan bit into the sandwiches (one in each hand), he proclaimed that he had never tasted anything so delicious.

And Mr. Pine waited until Jack had finished his well-earned Chow Mein sandwich to take him outside for a while, and make a certain business proposition to him – an elevation of his prior occupation, if you will.

It was true, after all. You could get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant – including a Scout.