Summary: An unhappy rich couple go to Maccadam's Earth chain bar and grill for lunch but when they find the food not up to par with their standards, they go to complain.
Diane and Blake smiled at each other as Diane drove her metal gold and bright purple-blue outlined Rolls-Royce Sweptail down the main street. She merely scoffed catching snot-nosed kids and their cheap parents glancing in awe at the vehicle. They could only dream of owning what was pocket change to her.
Blake wasn't a good driver, and he knew it, so she did the steering, not that she minded one bit. She loved being behind the wheel and the power of the engine in her grasp. Blake loved to feel the wind in his hair at least, but speed wasn't possible on busy main street.
"You look like you want to just break the pedal," Black laughed.
"If these commuters don't get out of my way, I just might."
Her husband's smile dropped a little to a neutral position. "It's fine, Diane, we can't control traffic."
She merely scowled, "If our laws were actually upheld, half these people wouldn't be on the road."
Blake didn't say anything until they stopped near the food block, a famous stretch of street with the finest restaurants. A few new ones had settled in the spots of previous lackluster diners, those that just couldn't cut it with the competition around them. There was one outpost that Blake eyed curiously, a large line that contained multiple different classes of people. Now that was odd. Most of the restaurants were either for those who could afford it or were cheap for the common paycheck. This particular restaurant somehow had country club men, parents with kids, influencers, high-end rich and even some people who he could have mistaken as homeless. Cybertronians, Velocitronians, and all other species of Transformer were among them. Everyone on the food block seemed to be at the new place.
"Maccadam's Bar and Grill House. Huh, Kilograve once mentioned that there was a bar on Cybertron run by an older bot, Maccadam. Guess he decided to extend his operations to Earth. We should check it out one day for lunch or something."
Diane sneered, "Please, it's probably just a supped-up Applebee's."
"And you know this how?" He bit back, tired of his wife's condescending tone.
She paused before making a shrugging gesture. "Okay, alright, fine...you want to go here for lunch. We'll do it!"
Blake frowned, "I said maybe another-"
"No, we're going to go today because I'm kind of curious too," she said. "It's what you seem to want so why can't I want it too?"
As she turned into the car park nearby, Blake took off his sunglasses and rubbed his strawberry blonde hair with a sigh. Diane made sure her makeup was correct before sliding out of the vehicle, heels immediately clacking against the concrete to be by her husband's side.
"Shall we?"
Blake stayed quiet but nodded. He followed the vicious woman in the baby blue sun dress as she held up the car keys, locking her Rolls-Royce from afar. They approached the grill house and the line had just started going down at that moment. They quickly took their places among the end and waited. As they did, Blake took the time to observe the exterior. Cybernetic as its owner with a somewhat Earthly feeling, crafted to appeal to humans without a doubt. He smiled at that. Within ten minutes as a few complaints from his wife, they finally went in and met a Dinobot Minicon at the kiosk. The Transformer-sized kiosk to the right were for them as well as any mixed parties of human and Transformer. A few parties were already shown to their seats by the tank-built host.
"Party of two," Blake said nicely.
The Dinobot Minicon akin to an oviraptor grabbed two menus and nodded, "Follow me please."
The grill house had three walkways, one for humans, one for Transformers and the middle walkway that webbed out under both was for the staff to maneuver around. Obviously, the building's foundation had been redesigned to include a lower level than normal to allow such accommodations. Human-exclusive tables had two floors on the left side of the restaurant while Transformer-exclusive tables were on the right. Those with both humans and Transformers had a comfy setup in the middle that could be adjusted to fit any combination of peers. The infamous bar of the establishment was set up near the large kitchens with specialized catwalks and a huge table designed for all to drink and watch anything from human sports to the newly acclaimed cube sport that reminded Blake of Football but with better rules. A large Seeker and two human coworkers seemed to man the bar.
The oviraptor Minicon seated them next to an aquarium filled with Kaon Kropids, a native metallic fish-like species that lives in Kaon's oil fields. The clear oil they endearingly loved helped show off their various colors.
"Don't tell me we are going to eat these things," Diane huffed.
Blake shook his head, "We can't eat metal, Diane."
She grew a little offended and immediately snapped, "I was being sarcastic. You do know what sarcasm is, right?"
He ignored her in favor of looking over the menu. Options for both humans and Transformers never looked so appealing and all were at a good price. He smiled seeing a fish and chips basket, said to be made with cod...not Kropids, and a side of seasoned fries with any extra side for a mere few dollars more. It honestly sounded good, just having a simple basket over expensive steak and caviar almost every other night. The Chef's Specialty was also curious. Unlike the other entries, it held no notes on what it was but perhaps, it was just a combination of different portions of everything on the menu.
"You don't mind if I have a few of your friends, do you?" He said jokingly to the nearest Kropid swimming by. It barely acknowledged him, instead puffing out its expandable tail fins like a beta to impress the other Kropids nearby.
"Hi," a human server said as they appeared via a lift that rose from the staff walkway below their level. The lift looked huge but given it was also designed for Transformers, it was sensible to see a mere five-foot human step off a platform over fifty times their size. "My name is Cat, and I will be your server today. Do you know what you would like to drink?"
The server had a few interestingly placed piercings and the tip of a tattoo that could be spotted on their neck. Blake was curious as to what it was.
"I think I'll have a Dr. Pepper today, Cat. Thank you," Blake said.
Diane merely scowled, "Does this place have any wine?"
Cat nodded with a smile, and they grabbed the little menu Blake didn't even notice next to the tank. As the server kindly went through all the options, Blake could tell his wife wasn't pleased being talked to in a casual, cheery tone. The restaurants they always went to had uptight and silent servers who only spoke in "proper" languages. Here, Cat was nothing but lively and the fact they were so eager to make the experience as genuine as possible made Blake appreciate the job a bit more. He could only imagine how many people Cat had to deal with daily like Diane and still come back to work.
When Diane finally decided, it took everything in Blake's power not to roll his eyes. He loved his wife but damn. He was quick to order a side of mozzarella sticks so Cat could get away from the demon in the dress and go to help other appreciative customers.
While Diane texted, Blake observed the grill house in full swing. People chatting, having a laugh and all was music to his ears. The restaurants they usually went to had little chats, not what this was. In a way, he was beginning to grow jealous of the people here. They may not have had what Blake and Diane could afford but they had something arguably more valuable, and he didn't even know what the word could be.
Cat returned with their drinks and the mozzarella sticks before taking their order. He went quick and flashed them a sorrowful smile, hoping deep down they could see how apologetic he was of his wife's behavior. When it came to Diane, she started asking all the fun questions.
"Is there anything on this menu that is not deep fried? What type of grill doesn't have options for slim figures? Do I look like I want to gain weight in one day?"
Cat looked a bit distraught trying to find a way to answer all the questions being thrown at them at once.
"Honey, please. Just get a salad on the third section."
"Please, the salad is probably from a bag they bought at Walmart."
Cat laughed nervously, "No, ma'am, the salads are freshly made with hand cut produce daily."
Diane smiled back maliciously, "You probably wouldn't know real from fake if it bit you, especially those fake piercings. What are you? A cover for Guiness World Records?"
A few people from other tables seemed to be looking at the couple, whispering. Blake felt sorry for the server but in a way, he felt worse for himself. He wasn't trying to be selfish but if Hell existed...Cat seemed appalled but hid it well. They put down their orders without another word and merely stormed off to the kitchen.
The mozzarella sticks were great; Diane didn't share his liking.
"Taste like moldy socks. You call this mozzarella? I've tasted real mozzarella. This is not even close."
"Breading blends with cheese different that crackers, Diane. Why can't you just enjoy something different for once?" He whispered defeated.
"I was raised on class. This place is below me and it should be below you."
"God forbid I like cheese sticks," he sighed.
When their food came, Cat wasn't smiling, and Blake couldn't blame them one bit. They did, however, send him a small nod as if to say good luck. He took it.
Complaint after complaint, some drew the attention of the oviraptor host who happened to pass by with another party. Blake just kept eating without ushering a single word, following the server's route of smile and wave through the pain. Finally, someone had told the manager what was up because standing on the lift with only the upper half visible to be at a comfortable level with the table was the femme in charge.
Cat returned and said emotionlessly, "Chef Firefang would like to have a word with you."
"Tattling now, huh?" Diane said, "Grow up, but I'll play your game."
They followed the server reluctantly. Blake was nervous but silent still as they passed the kitchen where a few glares were sent their way from humans and Transformers alike. Into the back storage they were led, and the couple grew a bit unsure of their destination until Cat smirked as they turned around.
"He'll be here shortly. Wait here please," they said with a newfound smug aura.
Blake could smell something unusual. He knew they kept meat nearby but was some of it rotting?
"Great, we're in a pig's stable," Diane laughed.
Blake finally snapped, "We're going home. I've had it! You never like anything if it isn't pricey. This place is great; it's you who's terrible!"
"How dare you speak to me that way! And for what, not liking some cheap, underwhelming grill?"
A third voice came into their conversation. "If you don't like the food, perhaps I could offer an alternative meal."
A red and orange Minicon came into view with his servos behind his back. He looked between the two, giving a wink and a smirk at Blake but changing to a scowl upon meeting the cold glare of Diane's.
"Now, I normally don't appreciate defamation of my food but against stirring up my restaurant and disturbing customers, I'd rather you insult the food than them. Fortunately, I can make everything better. I always do for all the customers who have issues, never once had a complaint afterwards."
Blake was about to reply when he heard the door to the back being closed and slowly, Firefang's expression changed on cue.
"You know, complaints as these rarely come and those that do complain, well, they only do it for one purpose and one only: because they want to. If it isn't what they think a bar and grill should be, they are the most vocal."
Blake said, "And we apologize for that."
Firefang smiled, "Never said you were the offender, my dear. Speaking of, why are you married to this bitch?"
"Excuse me?!" Diane yelled. "Who the hell do you think you are?!"
"Tell me, dear, would you like something off the menu instead? It's actually a specialty of mine preparing an alternate dish that I've never heard anyone complain about to date. It's always a mind changer, that's for sure. Would you like me to show you how I make it?"
Not wanting to be rude, Blake slowly nodded, "S-sure."
He was becoming suspicious between Cat abandoning them near a meat locker and Firefang's unusual demeanor when suddenly Firefang brought out a bloody knife.
"Allow me to get cooking then. But first, I need the main ingredient."
When his attention shifted to Diane again, Blake had a horrible realization and so did she. He pushed her to run, and he followed.
They both sprinted towards the exit only to hit the door, and it refused to budge. Diane frantically tried to pound on the door only for Blake to notice just what it was made of. Cybertronian reinforced titanium, virtually soundproof. With the TVs at the bar going, the noise of talking tables, and the cookware from the kitchen clanging together constantly. No one could hear their cries.
Blake immediately tried to open the door to the kitchen which they had passed earlier, noticing that the cooks within were also trying to get them killed knowing Firefang's response to rejection. The door was locked, and he had no choice but to grab Diane's arm to try and hide.
"You know, it's always the catered, rich, and privileged people who come to my restaurant and complain. I never heard of any complaints from the bar hoppers, critics or the casual diners. They love my food, but people like you ruin everything. So, why not get rid of the problem directly?" They heard Firefang say, closing in on their position.
Blake ran through the meat storage and stumbled into a half open door only to scream as he saw several dead bodies of humans in a corner frosted over. Some looked like they had been dead for a week or more. Many of them had pieces missing. One thing that remained constant between all of them was the fact that they looked like they were all wealthy. The clothes and the accessories told all. All of them must have complained; an unfortunate fate and dare he believe that Cat and the other cooks were in on the murders.
He heard footsteps nearby, realizing Diane was nowhere to be seen. Right now, he had to stay alive to find her. He fled out of the freezer before slowing to creep around a corner. Seeing a hiding spot among an old, sheeted table, he dived in and huddled close to the wall.
The part of the sheet that didn't touch the ground was barely a few inches off the floor and he lowered himself to peek out only to spot Diane hiding behind a chopping block. Poor choice of a spot but it wasn't like Blake could help her in his position.
Firefang's pede came into view and he chuckled, "I hope you know I don't do this for just anyone, making my specialty dish. I've had a few criticisms in the past, but they were genuine, so I would never harm them because I could tell it just wasn't meant to be. But you went out of your way to judge my cooking just because, that deserves something more up close and personal."
Diane was whimpering, a hand over her mouth. Suddenly, Firefang began sensing the air. Blake had forgotten Transformers possess a much better sense of smell than humans did and in a restaurant, human scents stuck out like a sore thumb.
The murderous Minicon chef crept forward, laughing. "Do you know how much those customers out there would pay to eat you? I bet they are just dying to select the option on the menu."
Firefang's servo tapped against the chopping block, head tilting towards the right a little as he sniffed. Fangs Blake didn't really notice much were seen in a massive grin and a growl followed.
"Hello, bitch."
Diane didn't even have time to scream as a servo wrapped around her neck from around the chopping block and dragged her out into the open. Blake froze at first before immediately jumping to his wife's aid by climbing out from under the table.
"No, take me instead!"
Firefang kept hold of her and slowly turned his head towards the human with amusement. "How noble, but you didn't seem too keen on even being in the same room as her a moment ago. I'm no fool, pretty boy, you hate her guts and quite frankly, she doesn't deserve you, and you know this."
Blake looked between his distressed wife who was practically berating him for standing there not trying to save her physically and the serial killer who was quite tame for someone about to murder a woman, but he stared a bit too long at Diane. A part of him held no remorse for her. If he would admit it out loud, he somewhat wished she would die so she would just shut up for once in his darker fantasies. He wanted to at least address the issue verbally when Firefang took his silence as permission.
Blake pressed against the wall as he heard his wife cry out. Firefang stabbed her seven times while holding her still and he could only watch horrified. Her gurgling as blood from her throat drowned her voice made him look away as the Minicon continued to viciously impale her until she went silent.
Dropping the body with parts falling off from how shredded they were from the attack, Firefang approached Blake bloody and sneering. But to the latter's surprise, the Minicon merely studied him again like he was expecting some sort of praise, not that Blake would give him the satisfaction of it.
"P-please don't..."
Firefang smirked almost kindly. "I won't kill you. You're not the problem, but I can't let you leave now that you know my little secret."
"What are you going to do with me?" Blake whispered still against the wall shivering.
The Minicon went silent and pondered the question before tilting his head. "Would you like to have dinner with me?"
Maccadam's Bar and Grill House was close to closing time. Blake had been there since 1 PM and he knew he couldn't leave...ever. In his boredom and in the watchful eye of Firefang, he studied his environment and learned quite a lot.
Cat and Firefang were partners. They were his human companion, and it explained how Firefang knew who to choose as his victims. Anyone who disrespected Cat or proved being outlandishly rude for no apparent reason other than to be dicks would be targeted by the mad mech. They had both worked in the restaurant business for years with over five years for the Maccadam's Earth chain; how many of them included blatant murder and possibly feeding customers their own species as a meal was unknown. Blake also found out that Firefang normally didn't allow survivors; Cat mentioned in an off comment upon checking up on him that he may have attracted the Minicon. The fact that he was going to have to go home with both as well to keep the secret of the murders under watchful eye also sucked. He could believe the liking towards him when he was seated at a private table in the back and served something suspicious.
Firefang purred as he revealed what appeared to be a fried chicken basket. He liked fried chicken too. But given the recent murder of his wife and talks of a specialty dish, Blake was all but terrified at the sociopath's presentation of it. While he had the dish in front of him, Firefang sat at the other side of the table with just a cube of Energon, nothing fancy as Blake would have assumed he would do.
He refused to eat the food, staring at it now knowing what it most likely was. How sick and inhumane Firefang was made him question a lot of the food business of Transformer cultures. Granted, it was doubtful a grand majority would serve humans to other humans but the fact that the situation could exist was downright evil, yet Firefang didn't seem that way. He only wanted to make customers happy. It was those who went out of their way to complain...like Diane...that sparked such malicious intent.
Cat walked up to the table despite the glare they received and smiled a bit sorrowfully. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way. We generally don't go about killing people a whole lot. I've tried to convince him to take his rage out on the cow meat in the meat locker but he's a bit, uh, malevolent when he's pissed off."
"Clearly," Blake scoffed. "Why serve humans though? Killing is one thing but cooking them?"
The Minicon shrugged, "Meat is meat, dear. You think I'm just going to let it go to waste? Obviously, the dead bodies don't need it anymore. Besides, do you know how many times we had to use Energon from the dead bots to keep up with rations in the war? We recycled it because Energon was becoming scarce and all our weapons, our bodies, and our functionality depends on Energon. Nobody thought anything of it because everyone knew. It was no secret of the suppliers, Autobot or Decepticon. You humans are so taboo over everything; you don't even know what you yourself would be willing to do if you were starving to death unless you're just incredibly stupid, then I can't help you."
"You're insane."
Firefang didn't move from his spot, still smiling regardless of the comment. "Well, can't please everyone but at least try it. I made it just for you, and no one has ever hated it, even the worst critics I've had come through my restaurant."
Knowing he didn't have much of a choice unless he wanted to be brutally chopped up and served to unaware people himself, he took a bite of the fried "chicken" and at first was mortified that he was going through with it. But, to his surprise, the seasonings and the breading itself made the abnormally pork-like taste blend well. For a second, he forgot what he was eating.
Firefang immediately noticed his expression change and laughed, "See?"
"It's...it's good. Really good..." he muttered trying to connect the dots of the situation in his mind. Now, he wasn't even sure if he should be horrified or impressed.
"Think of it this way for humor's sake: I presume you ate your wife out at least once; you're just doing it again but now she can't complain."
The inappropriate comment made Blake pause before seeing the amusement all over Firefang's face. He would have been disgusted had it not been a personal opinion that he kind of preferred this type of intimacy with his wife to what they did in bed. Diane ruined a lot of things; the sense of humor, albeit outrageous, was kind of spot on. Blake was starting to not care the more he thought about it.
"Your wife wasn't good to you, was she?"
It was technically none of Firefang's business, but Blake didn't stop himself from replying. "No...is it wrong that I don't miss her really? The silence you gave me...it's the first time in forever I think I had peace."
Cat and Firefang exchanged pitiful glances before Firefang had a neutral expression. "I guess you'll have a lot of that now. Hmm, hmm hmmahahahaha! If you think about it, you're eating away all the pain. And the bitch can't do anything to you now! Ahahahahahaha!"
Cat tried not to smile at the irony to be respectful, and Blake was silent, peering between the Minicon and the dish in front of him. As Firefang continued to laugh, the human realized that he was going to be served his ex-wife's corpse for the next few weeks and he was going to be in Firefang's care...forever. He wasn't horrified anymore, but he was unfeeling. He didn't even know how to react to it.
Firefang suddenly was hovering over him with another purr and sultry expression. "Since we now can get to know one another a bit better with all the time in the world given my shift for today is done, tell me, Blake, what's your favorite food?"
Blake didn't even move from his position as the Minicon watched him with what he could assume was a crush of sorts. First, the damn Minicon murdered his wife then fed him her remains and now he expected them to get closer? Blake knew that there was no escaping the killer before him. What was he to do? He loved Firefang's food, sure, but now it was something out of his hands. Cat was no help in trying to reason for him, not that they could now that he thought about it.
It was a strange sense of irony, a blessing yet a blatant curse. He mentioned finally being at peace with Diane gone, but, in the end, Diane seemed to still get the last laugh. He could hear it from the disfigured corpse in the meat locker taunting him, scolding him. In a way, Diane ruined his life once more. He was now a permanent addition to Maccadam's, forced to eat whatever this hell-born chef made him. Guess he got his wish to try the restaurant after all.
AN: Originally, Firefang was going to kill both humans but I grew to like the dynamic tension between Blake and him so I made it a forming stockholm syndrome-esque plot at the end. What happens afterwards? Well, Blake can't live in the restaurant and he certainly can't go home...at least he's given the chance to be among two people who can appreciate his efforts.