Trixie And Spike Go To The Drive-Thru
“Welcome to Hay-Fry Fever, home of the Fever Fries. May I take your order?”
Spike looked away from the small drive-thru speaker and addressed the mare sitting next to him. “Alright, Trixie, what do you want?”
“Hmph, Trixie needs time to think,” Trixie replied from her seat in the taxi wagon.
“Hey, uh, we’re gonna need just a second,” Spike said back to the speaker.
“Alright, just order whenever,” the snotty, teenage voice of a mare replied.
“Okay, Trixie, what do you feel hungry for? Hay burger? Fries? Milkshake?”
“Oh, curses, there’s just too many choices. The number one looks good, but so does the number three…” Trixie pouted while looking at the menu. “It’s too complicated to decide on such short notice.”
“Ugh, and this is why I suggested we go inside,” Spike grumbled.
“Trixie had no time to style her beautiful mane this morning. The world was not fit to be amongst its presence.”
“Your mane looks fine,” Spike said with a sigh. “It’s your breath that’ll scare people away. Geez.”
“Oh, shut up, Spike. What do you want?”
“Same as always! A number five hay and cheddar burger with large fries and Colta-Cola. Unlike you, I’m not all wishy-washy about everything.”
“I am not wishy-washy! I just have a refined sense of choice… and it’s still in the loading process at this time.”
“Not to like, rush you or anything, but we’ve got other people behind you, so…”
“Sorry, we’re almost ready!” Spike shouted back at the speaker. “Alright, Trix, hurry up already.”
“Fine, fine, fine… Give me a number three with fries, medium size.”
“Okay, gotcha.”
Spike cleared his throat and addressed the speaker. “Alright, we’re ready… I think.”
“Alright, what are we having?”
“I need a number five, large sized with a Colta-Cola and hay fries.”
“Alright, what else?”
“Yeah, I also need a number three, medium sized with fries.”
“Okay, and what to drink with that one?”
“We need a… -hey, what’d you want to drink, Trix? Cola, root beer?”
“Trixie does not soil her tongue with such cheap beverages. She wants a Pepsi.”
“Okay, we need a Pepsi with that one!”
“Sorry, we don’t have Pepsi. We only have Colta-Cola products.”
“Sorry, Trixie, they don’t have Pepsi.”
“What?” Trixie shrieked. “What kind of archaic society is this? Hey, do you all still segregate Pegasi and Unicorns, too?!”
Spike dropped his face into his palm. “Look, just get a Colta-Colta. It’s basically the same.”
“Spike, that’s like saying it’s okay to get paid marenopoly money at work!”
Spike let out a groan and rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever, just tell me what you want to drink.”
“Alright, fine, but Trixie isn’t happy. Let me see… No Pepsi, so… I got it!”
“Great! What do you want?”
“Do they have Diet Pepsi?”
Spike’s eye twitched for a brief moment. “Forget it. I’ll choose.”
He turned back around to the speaker. “Just give us a Root Beer with that one.”
“Alright, anything else?”
“Nope, that’s-”
“But, I also wanted a-”
“That’s everything!”
“Great. That’ll be five bits at the window. Thanks.”
Spike bid the cart forward to the window.
“But wait, they didn’t read my order back! What if I don't’ get the right food?”
“It’s fine, Trixie. We’ll get the right food.”
“..hmm, we’ll see about that.”
The drive-thru window opened up revealing a very miserable looking teenager. “Yeah, that’ll be five bits. Or are you going to take all day searching for your money?”
“Geez, attitude much?” Spike said to himself whilst bringing out his wallet. “Here you go.”
The girl took the money from him and stashed it into the register. “Are you all going to need any sauce?”
“Yeah, I’ll take some ketchup. You want any, Trixie?”
“Hmm, Trixie shall ponder on this for a moment…”
“Oh, joy,” the girl at the window said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll just come back in a few months, then.”
“Trixie just wants some buffalo sauce for her fries.”
“Sorry, ma’am, we don’t have buffalo sauce.”
Spike could feel his headache reaching new heights. He was never going to get his food at this point.
“No buffalo sauce? This establishment disgusts Trixie…”
“Yeah, okay, I’ll just go grab your food now.”
“Do your minimum wage duty, peasant. Trixie will be watching you and your evil corporate empire…”
“Trixie, please don’t threaten the crew ponies. You know that never ends well. I had to bail you out of county jail the last time!”
“Trixie is merely trying establish justice for all the food consumers of the world. An aim not totally devoid of merit.”
“Fine… But can we please save it for when we get home and eat our food. I’m super hungry and really don’t want to be here any longer than we have to.”
“Fine, but while you’re chowing down on your burger, Trixie will be feasting on justice for all Equestrian citizens.”
“Uh-huh, you do that.”
The drive-thru window swung open and their food was tossed to them.
“All right, there you go. Sauce, napkins and straws are in the bag. Have a great day.”
“Finally!” Spike’s stomach let out a deep growl at the smell of the the bag’s contents. “I need this so bad.”
The wagon pulled away toward their home.
“Hmm, Trixie needs her fries.” She reached her hoof in the bag and pulled out a few fries. She then greedily stuffed them in her mouth with an elated smile. However, that smile soon turned into a frown. “Spike, we need to go back.”
“What? Why? We’ve succeeded in our mission. What possible, Celestia-Forsaken reason could you have for wanting to go back?!”
“The fries are cold. Trixie refuses to eat sub-standard food.” Without a second though, she took the bag and tossed it off the cart into a garbage can on the path. “It does not deserve to be in Trixie’s stomach.”
A lone tear streaked down Spike’s cheek. Life just wasn’t fair.
“All right, let’s go back.”
