Captain Ahab’s Seafood Galley

By Mark Mitchell

Illustrated by Thana Meejinda

When Veronica heard they were hiring at Captain Ahab’s Seafood Galley, and at the Moonport location no less, she took the first shuttle she could book to apply in person. If she was ever going to live out her dream of exploring the Cosmos, she would need to raise the money.

She received an interview right on the spot. Normal protocol called for an electronic submission to apply for the position (because, let’s be honest, who would ever travel so far for a fast-food job?), but Veronica viewed the job as a stepping-stone on her journey to the stars, so no matter how low the pay or how bad the benefits, it would only be temporary. She hoped.

As the manager of the Moonport location looked over her resume, Veronica moved her sweaty hands under the table and played with her fingers as she looked around the restaurant. Most Ahab’s restaurants had the same decor and color schemes: cookie-cutter versions of one another so that wherever people traveled, they knew what to expect when they stopped in. None of the other locations could rival this one, however, because of the view.

Veronica had to tilt her head to see under the ad stickers on the windows and capture the breath-taking spectacle. Outside the double-paned glass, Earth rose on the horizon.

The sight could be jarring for those who didn’t anticipate seeing their native planet so far away (those that had never traveled off-world before), but Veronica had been to the Moon several times over her formative years. Mostly for school field trips and once to visit her grandparents, who lived in a condo not far from Ahab’s. Should Veronica be offered the job, she would ask them for a place to sleep until she could afford something of her own, most likely on one of the low-income orbiting substations.

As the manager read over her resume, his lips pulled back to expose his pink gums as if he’d smelled something horrid. The way his face twitched while he did it made Veronica wonder if it was some sort of involuntary tic. He set the application aside and folded his hands in front of him.

“This is most irregular,” he said, before adjusting his red tie that was hanging in a loose knot around his throat. “I mean, conducting an interview in person. Usually we do it via tele-screen.” He picked up the application again. “Though I must say I’m glad you came. We are in desperate need of help. Have you ever worked a register before?”

“I had a Fisher-Price one when I was younger?” Veronica offered. “But if it’s any consolation, I never lost any of the plastic coins or bills that came with it.”

The manager laughed. “That is something, and I will certainly take it into consideration. Luckily here though we don’t deal with physical money often. As you can imagine, we get customers from all over the Cosmos, so it would be infinitely impossible to keep change on hand for all those different currencies.”

“Yes, of course.” Veronica felt warmth in her cheeks. She could certainly believe they received all types here, judging from the staff alone. The manager was human, but was that a dinosaur working the fly-thru window?

“Should you get the job,” the manager said, “you’d only take electronic payments. Much easier.” He smiled, which put Veronica more at ease. “Tell me, why do you want to work here?”

“Well.” Veronica shifted in the plastic booth and raised herself up. She had been slouching to see out the window. “I think it would be a great opportunity for me. I’ve always loved Captain Ahab’s since I was a kid. We would go every Thursday night back home. I guess I’d like to recapture a bit of my childhood again. You know, for the nostalgia.”

The manager lifted his chin with regard to her answer. He pushed himself out of the booth and adjusted his shirt, which had come untucked in the back from sitting. “Here at Ahab’s, along with quality burgers and fries, we sell nostalgia. I have a good feeling about this.” He held his hand out to her. “Welcome aboard, matey!”

She looked at his hand, then up to his smiling countenance. “You mean I got the job? Just like that?”

The manager faltered a bit. “You mean you don’t want it anymore?”

“No,” Veronica said and scooted out of the booth. “Of course I do. I just can’t believe it is all.”

“Well, believe it,” he said and they shook hands. “When can you start? Now?” He raised an eyebrow.

She nodded frantically. “Absolutely, sir.”

His lips pulled back again. “No need for all the formalities. Unlike a real ship, there are no rankings here. We’re all on the same team, got it? Please, call me Bill.”

“Ok,” Veronica said, timid to call her new boss by his first name. “Bill.”

“Great.” He clapped his hands. “Now let’s see about finding you a uniform. I think we have some spares in the back room. This way.”

She wobbled after him, not quite relinquishing her “sea-legs” as it were. Bill noticed and gave a knowing smile.

“You’ll get used to the GEM soon enough.” Before Veronica could ask, he added, “That’s the Gravity Enhancer Machine. Helps keep us grounded and not jumping around all the time. More conducive to food preparation. Come on.”

He led her to the back room.

#

Since she had come straight from the shuttle station to the restaurant, Veronica had her duffel bag with her. She changed into her uniform and stuffed her own clothes into the bag, then hung the bag in her locker. Before leaving the changing room, or at least what served as one (it was also where they stored dry goods like boxes of extra napkins and straws), she took out a series of brochures from the smaller zipper section of her bag and thumbed through them.

There were pictures of the Milky Way galaxy, and Saturn with its brilliant rings. Then there were the alien planets, only now known to mankind, but from which creatures had traveled to visit Earth and its surrounding sights. Some of those creatures stopped in at Ahab’s a time or two to sample the local fare. There were brochures for jungle planets and ice planets, barren planets and lush landscapes.

She let out a sigh and replaced the brochures, forgetting to zip up the bag in her haste to appear on the sales floor.

Veronica stepped out of the locker room and adjusted her short-sleeved button-up shirt with the patches that made it appear as if she was a sailor on a 19th-century whaling vessel. How anyone ever wore something so uncomfortable was beyond her. She looked down at her pants, which hovered about six inches above her shoes.

“Ah, the look of a model employee,” Bill said. “Fits you perfectly.” She would disagree with him, but being her first day, she decided to stow any qualms she had until they all knew each other better.

Standing next to Bill behind the counter was a younger man, around a similar age as her if Veronica had to guess. He had messy brown hair sticking out from under his paper pirate hat, but it was his sparkling eyes she noticed first off. She felt weak in her knees when he waved at her. She gave a wave back, though they were only a few feet apart, and immediately felt embarrassed.

“This is Zack,” Bill said.

Again Zack waved. She fought the urge to wave back. Once had been weird enough.

“He’ll be showing you the ropes.” Bill placed an arm around Zack’s shoulder. “You’re in good hands, but should you need something, I’ll be in my office.” Bill let out a sigh. “Balancing the books.” He got a faraway look on his face, then shook it off and gave Veronica an encouraging smile before shuffling off to do the accounting.

“Bill didn’t say your name,” Zack said after the manager left. “It’s not Gork is it?”

She got a puzzled look on her face.

Zack pointed to her nametag. “Someone probably forgot to remove it. Gork used to work here a few moon phases ago. He quit to move back home. Mother got sick, you know?” He added, “What is your name?”

“Veronica.”

“Veronica,” Zack said, seeming to test it out. “I like it. Suits you better than Gork does.”

A customer walked through the airlock, saving her from any embarrassment she might have been showing. Zack gave her a wink as if to say, watch this, and took his place behind the register. The customer, a large male with green skin and three red eyes, scanned the menu. Behind his ears, flaps of skin popped open and closed while he thought about what to order.

“Welcome to Ahab’s,” Zack said with a level of artificial enthusiasm that was lacking in his voice a moment before. “Would you be interested in trying our new Harpooner’s Burger? Made with two patties of Earth-produced beef, caramelized white pearl onions, two slices of melty white cheddar, and a generous spread of white garlic-aioli on a toasted seedless bun. It’s one whale of a burg—”

“No,” the man said. His ear flaps popped. “Give me the Clamdigger’s Delight with a side of Pegleg Tots.” Pop. Pop. Pop.

“Certainly, sir.” Zack keyed the order on the register. “Would you like that made with chicken or asteroid-raised fungus?”

Pop. Pop. “How fresh is the fungus?”

“Came in yesterday,” Zack said with pride.

“Give me the fungus then.” Pop. Pop.

“Anything to drink?”

The man waved one webbed hand in the air. Zack rang him up and waited for the green man to figure out where to pay with his intergalactic credit card.

“We’ll have that right out to you.”

The man turned and walked away to find a seat, popping with every step.

“Pretty easy, right?” Zack said to Veronica on his way to the warming chutes. “The order goes to the kitchen where Slop and Cuspid will put it together before sending the food here,” he pointed to the chutes, “for us to put on a tray and take it over to the customer.” Zack drummed his hands on the metal counter while they waited.

Veronica found herself getting overwhelmed already. Zack had such a laid back, easy style, and she longed to have that kind of confidence. But for her, everything was new, like the speech he gave and how to work the register, then those names, Slop and Cuspid. Who were—?

Movement on the other side of the warming chutes caught her attention. A humanoid man made out of mud or tar, something dark and liquid-y, dropped an order of Clamdigger’s Delight into the fryers. The hot oil sputtered and hissed. The mud man sighed and moved his lips as if to speak, but the oozing liquid of his skin fell across his mouth and he could only make some sort of bubbling noise.

She felt she’d seen someone like this before, but where was that? Then it came to her. On a school trip to the capital, they had visited one of the Smithsonian museums, this particular one covering pop culture. There had been a board game kids played many years ago where they moved plastic gingerbread men along a multi-colored path. One of the characters on the board (was his name Gloopy? Gluey? Something like that?) looked just like the fry cook.

Something moved along the ceiling and Veronica turned her gaze up to find a man hanging from the air ducts. He yawned and stretched his arms, which were connected to a large fan. On a second look, she realized it wasn’t a fan, but wings. The man seemed to keep to the shadows, though she could just make out his pale features well enough. He had dark, intense eyes, and two sharp fangs that rested over his bottom, rosy lip.

“That’s Cuspid up there,” Zack said, leaning over to whisper to Veronica.

Veronica fought off a shudder, both from looking at the man hanging upside down and from being startled by Zack’s warm breath in her ear. The hanging man must have had acute hearing, because he opened one beady eye at them before closing it again.

“He cooks all the meat patties,” Zack continued. He lowered his voice a little more to add, “And he likes to drink the leftover blood mixture from the packaging. Strange, right?”

Veronica found herself nodding, though she barely heard the words. She was too transfixed on the man working the fryer. He lifted the basket from the bubbling oil and dumped the contents into a paper tray.

She started to ask, “Why do they call him…”

And then she got her answer. As he carried the tray of fried fungus pieces over to the warming chutes, his feet made a sucking, squishy sound with every step. It sounded a lot like Slop. Slop. Slop. He gurgled some sort of phrase and his vacant, dark eyes looked out at Veronica from his side of the kitchen.

“Slop said ‘order’s up,’” Zack translated.

“Oh,” Veronica said and stepped up to the chute. “Thanks.”

The melting man nodded and gurgled something else. Then slop, slop, slop back over to the fryer to await the next order.

Veronica picked up the paper tray and held it out, afraid to touch the edges. From the corner, drops of wet sand fell onto the counter.

“Yeah, he does that.” Zack took the paper tray from her and placed it on the plastic one to be carried over to the gill man. “Shoot, I almost forgot about the tots. Would you mind?”

She looked around until he pointed to the other side of the counter, near the airlock window of the fly-thru.

“Use one of the medium-sized boxes,” Zack said over his shoulder while he loaded the tray with napkins and condiment packets.

Veronica started toward the containers for tots and fries, when a Velociraptor with a headset on pushed her out of the way. The dinosaur’s feathers raised all over her body like a puffed-up cockatoo and she emitted a loud screech. It sounded like nails across a chalkboard. She tapped the long claws of her feet on the floor.

Veronica didn’t know what to do or say. She’d never seen a dinosaur before, at least not one that still had its skin and muscles and everything else that made it a living breathing animal. She’d only seen the skeletal remains in the museum.

“Sorry, Nancy,” Zack said, coming to Veronica’s rescue. Nancy gave another cringe-inducing screech before stomping over to the fly-thru window.

Veronica stood, transfixed. Zack scooped up the order of tots and filled a paper box. As he brought the item over to the tray, he smiled at Veronica’s stunned appearance.

“Don’t mind Nancy,” he said. “She takes a little while to get used to the new employees. I think it took me a few months before she would give me the time of day.”

Veronica kept her eyes on the raptor working the register at the fly-thru. Nancy used her smaller arm to switch the headset on and screeched into the microphone to the spacecraft waiting to order. Veronica stumbled over to receive the plastic tray from Zack.

“That thing is called Nancy?”

Zack smirked. “As far as we can tell. Her name’s too hard for us humans to pronounce, so we call her Nancy. It’s the closest we can come to what it sounds like to our ears. She doesn’t seem to mind.” Zack gave Veronica a slight push from behind to get her moving with the order for the gill man.

She tripped over her feet looking back at Nancy. The dinosaur snapped her jaws and hissed into her headset.

Veronica slid the tray on the table to the gill man. He mumbled something about fast food not being very fast, but she didn’t really hear him. There was plenty else to fill her attention with. The icy edges of doubt had crept into her mind over accepting this position, because she was starting to think she was out of her league.

#

As the day wore on, and the moon shifted into darkness, Veronica continued to watch Zack at the register. She learned which buttons to press to send the orders back to Slop and Cuspid. Having eaten at Captain Ahab’s many times back in the states where she grew up, she knew the menu backwards and forwards, but her knowledge grew with the alterations the customers ordered. Extra this. Less of that. Most importantly, Veronica learned how to work around her fellow co-workers.

Slop and Cuspid weren’t such an issue since she didn’t have much reason to go on the other side of the warming chutes, but Nancy proved to be the one to watch out for. She had a short fuse when it came to the newbies. Veronica could feel her leering reptilian eye on her anytime she came over to get Pegleg Tots or Rapier Blades (fried zucchini fingers). Veronica worked fast to get what she needed and then vacated the area before she could incur Nancy’s wrath.

After a couple hours working hard at the books, Bill ventured out of his office to check on Veronica’s progress. His tie had come even further loosened around his neck and he sported smudges of ink on his chin.

“How’s it going out here?” Bill asked. He stuffed his shirt back into his pants and surveyed the restaurant. The lunch rush, or what constituted for one, had died down and only a handful of customers now ate in booths spread out from one another. A fuzzy woman, like a five-foot beaver, was reading on a tablet near the play area while her young weasel son scampered on the foam platforms before doing a cannonball into the ball pit. “Things seem to be under control,” Bill said, turning to face Veronica. He gave her a pat on the shoulder. “How’s the first day?”

“Good,” she said.

“Have you had a turn on the register yet?”

Veronica exchanged a nervous glance with Zack. She swallowed a lump.

“No, not yet,” she said. “I’ve been memorizing the buttons and how to work the card reader so far.”

Bill smiled, but Veronica sensed a feeling of disappointment behind it.

“I would like you to give it a go,” Bill said. “Jump right in.”

The airlock hissed and a huge hulk of a man walked in. Bill glanced at the new customer for a brief moment before holding up triumphant fists as encouragement.

“Why don’t you take this one,” he said to Veronica. “You got this.”

Zack stepped away from the register so that Veronica could greet the man. She slipped into the spot he had vacated and put two sweaty hands on either side of the keyboard, ready to take the order.

The airlock sealed behind the man, holding back the vacuum of space. The man removed his helmet to show he wasn’t a man at all, but a red-skinned alien. He had a pair of glowing neon eyes and a hard stare to him. Veronica wondered if he ever smiled. She guessed probably not.

The man lumbered over, crunching the moon rocks stuck in the tread of his boots and leaving behind footprints of gray dust. He dropped his helmet on the counter with a loud thud. Veronica jumped from the impact and glanced back at her boss.

Bill held up two thumbs at her.

Veronica swallowed another lump and faced forward.

“Hi,” she said, a little shaky. “Welcome to Ahab’s. Would you care to try the Harpooner’s Burger?” Her mouth went dry. “It consists of two quarter-pound patties and—”

“No,” the red alien said.

“Alright,” Veronica said. “What can I get you then?”

“Give me three Sea-Faring Sandwiches,” he growled, “but without all that muck in there?”

“Do you mean the lettuce, tomato, and on–”

“The muck.” The alien leaned down. He towered over Veronica by a full meter and a half.

“No muck,” she reiterated and searched the keyboard for the proper buttons to press. She was made so nervous by the hulking alien, she failed to realize her fellow co-workers were all watching her. Even Cuspid came down from the ceiling to get a better view of the exchange. She asked, “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” the alien man said. “Give me a Bilge-Watermelon Milkshake. I don’t want cow’s milk neither. Make it with Fereax milk.”

He unzipped the lapel pocket of his jumpsuit and thumbed out his payment card. She gave him his total and asked if he would require a receipt.

“No.” Foam dribbled from the corner of his crimson mouth.

“We’ll bring that out to you shortly.”

The man slid his helmet off the counter and stomped over to the nearest booth where he proceeded to stare at Veronica as she went about putting his order together.

“You did great,” Bill said as Veronica set napkins and a straw on the plastic tray. “A natural.”

Veronica fought off a shudder. “Why does he keep staring at me?”

Bill had already gone back to his office, which left Zack to fill her in.

“That guy comes in here all the time,” he said. He filled a canister from the ice cream machine. Once the noise of the rotating blades died down, he added, “Don’t know his name, but he treats everyone that way. Real friendly guy.”

Zack fished a Cherry-Crab (delivered fresh from the edges of the Cosmos) from the aquarium and placed it on top of the shake. The crab fought back with its pinchers against the metal tongs Zack used to grab it. Then the crab rolled into their signature shape, that of a cherry complete with antenna stem. Zack placed the completed beverage on the tray.

“Maybe you should let me take this over.”

“Nah, it’s ok,” Veronica said. “If he comes in all the time, I should try to win him over with kindness.”

Zack said, “I wouldn’t do that if…” But she was already on her way.

Veronica stopped by the table and slid the tray in front of the red alien. He looked down at the tray, then up at her.

“What’s that?” he said. He had indicated the drink.

“Your shake.” She furrowed her brow. “Something the matter with it?”

He pulled the tray closer and leaned over the shake to give it a deep sniff. His head jerked back. “I said to make it with Fereax milk.” He clutched the beverage and made as if to hand it back to her. She reached out to receive it.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she said. “I’ll make sure it’s made properly next time.”

“There shouldn’t be a next time,” he growled.

The alien splashed the shake on the front of Veronica’s uniform. Pink ice cream splattered all over the floor, leaving behind a perfect outline of her slender frame. She gasped from the shock.

“I want my money back,” the alien said. “And I want this made right. Got that, Gork?”

Zack ran out from behind the counter to aid Veronica. He grabbed her by the shoulders, careful not to slip in the mess. Her expression stayed fixed with a big O for a mouth.

“Sorry about that, sir,” Zack said, leading Veronica away. “I’ll get the manager out here.”

“You better.” The alien ripped into the wrapper of one of his sandwiches and took an enormous bite. Secret sauce splotched on both his cheeks as his mandibles set to chewing the seafood-alternative protein patty.

Bill watched from the safety of his office.

“Is he mad?” he asked as Zack led Veronica to the back room to change.

“Livid,” Zack said.

“Oh, dear.” Bill tightened his tie and muttered some sort of pep talk to himself before walking over to the frustrated alien.

In the changing room, Veronica slumped down onto the bench. The smell of the shake was already beginning to turn and the putrid vapors assaulted her nostrils. The stench brought her back to the moment.

“Why did he do that?” She hung her head. Zack handed her a clean towel.

“The guy’s an asshole,” he said. “Don’t let him get to you.”

“This is my first day.” Veronica slapped her thighs in defeat and wiped her face and arms with the towel.

“We all have bad days around here,” Zack said in an attempt to comfort. “Comes with the territory unfortunately. Some people, creatures, think because it’s customer service, they can treat us like shit.”

Veronica tossed the soiled towel into the hamper for dirty uniforms. Her shirt stuck to her as she pulled it away from her body. The cold had seeped through to her skin.

“Let me get you a clean shirt,” Zack said. He opened her locker to get a fresh shirt when her bag fell to the floor, spilling the contents. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

Veronica didn’t even look up.

Zack collected the array of items: her Chapstick, feminine products, wallet, and a stack of travel brochures. Before Zack could flip through them, Bill walked in.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a customer so irate.” Bill put his arms akimbo and made a clucking sound. “I comped his meal and said we’d make him a fresh Bilge-Watermelon Milkshake.”

“I’ll make sure he gets it,” Zack said.

“Thanks.” Bill let out a sigh. “What a day, huh?” He shook his head. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks though. Anyway, I have to step out for a bit while the dust settles. Can you watch this place while I’m gone?”

“Sure.” Zack stuffed the items back into Veronica’s bag, but he held onto the brochures.

“Are you alright?” Bill asked Veronica. She didn’t respond. He shrugged at Zack and left.

Zack rifled through the brochures, stopping on each one for a brief second before proceeding on to the next. He squared them up and stuffed them into Veronica’s bag.

“Didn’t realize you were such a universe-traveler,” he said in a failed attempt at a joke.

“I’m not.” She pressed her chin to her chest. “And I never will be. I took this job to save up for passage out of the galaxy, but I don’t think I’m cut out for this line of work.”

“The universe isn’t all that great,” he said and sat down next to her. “It’s pretty much the same everywhere you go. Money-grubbing corporations utilizing cheap labor and blowing through resources faster than they can be replenished. If you ask me, you don’t need to travel light-years away. You can get all that right here.”

“Yeah well, ever since I was a little girl, I’ve dreamed of seeing those places for myself.” She shrugged. “Maybe a stupid dream, but it was mine.”

“If it’s really your dream to see the universe, then you shouldn’t let one stupid alien prevent you from that.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “That’s easy for you to say.”

Zack was taken aback. “Why would it be easy for me?”

“Because you’re so confident in everything you do. I wish I could be that way, but I’m not. I’m a weak, frightened girl who never should have left earth.”

Zack wandered over to the door to watch Slop—with his bucket—mop the floor and leave the alien by himself to drum his digits on the table while waiting for the replacement shake.

“You want to get back at that alien who threw the milkshake at you?”

Veronica lifted her face. “What do you mean?”

A smile spread across Zack’s face. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you get cleaned up? Meet me by the shake machine. That guy’s picked on us for the last time.”

#

Veronica put a new shirt on and emerged from the back room. Zack stood by the ice cream machine in a huddle with Slop, Cuspid, and Nancy. Their lips moved but Veronica was too far away to hear what they said. Zack cradled a milkshake out of view from the customers as Veronica approached them.

“Sorry about your shirt,” Cuspid said. Veronica hadn’t expected his voice to be so high-pitched, but then again, her own voice sounded strange to her ears in the artificial atmosphere of the restaurant.

“Thanks,” she replied. She held her arms over her mid-section, giving her that frightened appearance.

Nancy tilted her oblong head and made a soft metallic screech. She pounded one tiny fist into her other three-fingered hand.

“Nancy says ‘let’s get this bastard,’” Zack translated. The sentiment made Veronica crack a smile.

Zack held the milkshake out to Veronica. “I think you should do the honors,” he said.

Veronica was reluctant to take it from him. “What did you do to it?”

“We added a surprise.” Zack got a mischievous grin. “I don’t think we’ll see him in here again after this.”

Veronica took the shake from him. “We’re not going to kill him are we?”

The group laughed. Even Slop looked like he had a smile, though the constant stream of bubbling mud quickly covered it again.

Veronica looked over at the red alien. He stared daggers back at her, his gaze intense and burning with rage. The encouragement of her co-workers gave her all the resolve she needed to approach him again. She had been humiliated by his actions and it was time she stood up for herself.

“Ok,” she said, banishing the thought of chickening out. “Here goes.”

“You got this,” Zack said as she walked away.

She approached the alien’s booth, holding the shake out in front of her. She had no idea what Zack and the others had done to it, and she didn’t really care either, as long as it embarrassed the alien like he’d done to her.

“Sorry for the wait,” she said, and placed the shake on the table. The alien’s eyes flicked from the drink to her. “We had to search for some Fereax milk that hasn’t perished already.” She did her best to smile, though her lips fought against it.

He snatched the shake and sniffed it. His eyes rolled over to Veronica’s co-workers. They had gone back to work, but clearly still took an interest with occasional glances over at the table. The alien’s lips stretched out to the straw for a tentative sip.

“To your satisfaction?”

“Be gone,” the alien commanded and turned from her. He greedily sucked at the drink. Veronica patted her hands against her thighs and made her retreat. When she got behind the counter, her co-workers once again gathered around.

“What’s going to happen?” she said.

“Watch,” Zack said. His voice bubbled with excitement.

The alien finished the drink with an obnoxious slurp. He belched, sending droplets of Fereax milk onto the table.

“Any second now,” Zack said. He had his hand on Veronica’s shoulder and dug his nails in. She winced and brushed his hand from her. “Sorry,” he said.

The alien picked at his teeth and examined his digit after. He brushed his findings on the front of his jumpsuit and slid from the booth, cradling his helmet under one arm. As he walked toward the airlock to go out to his spacecraft, he stopped for a moment to grin at the Ahab employees.

“Fair winds and following seas,” Zack said with a salute. “And thanks for dropping by.”

The alien sneered at him and placed his helmet over his head. The solar visor hid his menacing look as the alien twisted the helmet till it snapped into place.

“I don’t understand,” Veronica said. “What’s supposed to happen?”

Zack shrugged and appealed to his fellow workers. Cuspid met his shrug.

“I added plenty,” Cuspid said. “It should have worked.”

They all looked back at the alien making his exit. The inside door of the airlock hissed open and the man raised his leg to take a step, but then froze in place. He moved back from the door and it slid shut again.

Zack reached out and grabbed a fistful of both Veronica and Cuspid’s uniforms. He grinned when he said, “Showtime.”

The alien staggered back and fumbled at the release buttons for his helmet. All he could manage to do was flip the solar visor up. His fiery eyes went wide behind the clear plastic bubble.

Nancy pushed past her human co-workers, unable to see over them with her short stature. They all pressed together, watching the alien struggle.

He fought to get the helmet off, but it remained firmly intact. Then he froze in place again, as if he knew what was going to come next.

The clear plastic became opaque with a blueish film, the blue dye coming from the Lohmel sauce added to the milkshake. The alien kept vomiting more and more, adding coat after coat of blue paint to the inside of his helmet. His screams of anguish came out in syrupy bubbles as it seemed he would never stop heaving. The inside of his jumpsuit bulged outward as the discharge had nowhere else to go. The alien staggered in place, going weak in the knees. The contents of his suit sloshed around with every step.

The weasel kid crept out of the ball pit, over to his beaver mother, and clutched at her dress. She pressed his head to her side and covered the young boy’s ears from the obscenities the alien man spewed out along with three Sea-Faring Sandwiches and his Bilge-Watermelon Milkshake.

The alien groped in the darkness of his own making for the front counter. Finding it, he pulled himself over to the group of Ahab employees laughing at his misfortune.

“What did you do to me?” the alien said through burps of nausea. He found the release latch for his helmet – all too late – and lifted it off his head. A wave of sickness washed down the front of his jumpsuit and spilled all over the counter. He wiped vomit from his eyes and flung the liquid toward Veronica. Leaning over the counter, he pointed at her and said, “I know it was you.”

Veronica felt like shrinking away, but sensing her co-workers had her back, she raised her chin and actually took a step toward the infuriated alien.

“Something the matter with your drink,” she said, adding a curt, “sir?”

The alien slammed his fists down on the counter, creating twin dents.

He said, “I want to speak with your manager. You’ll all be fired. The customer is always right.”

“Not today though.” Zack stepped forward. “The way you treat the staff, we don’t want you here. Now, kindly, get the fuck out.”

The alien’s eyes narrowed as close as they could. Heat radiated off his body. “You dare to speak to me that way?”

Nancy jumped up onto the counter and hissed at the alien. Her talons clicked against the metal as she snarled. The feathers on her hackles raised and shook. Cuspid joined suit and displayed his fangs. Slop made a menacing posture, slamming one hand into the other, both disappearing in the cascading flow of muck.

“You haven’t seen the last of me,” the alien threatened.

“Piss off,” Veronica said and gave him a one-finger salute.

With nothing left to say, the alien stomped over to the airlock, dumped the rest of his helmet’s contents on the floor and went out. The door hissed shut.

Slop mumbled something unintelligible and followed Cuspid back into the kitchen. Nancy gave a nod to Veronica before jumping down from the counter and assuming her position by the fly-thru window. That was as far as the celebration went. Veronica couldn’t help but smile, however. She had stood up to her bully. It warmed her insides to know she had been accepted into the group. A new family from the one she left behind on Earth.

Zack gazed at the mess and shook his head. “Better get this cleaned up before Bill gets back.”

“Let me help you,” Veronica said.

Together they retrieved a bucket and mop from the back room.

#

The other customers had left by the time Veronica and Zack had gotten most of the mess taken care of. A quiet pervaded over the empty dining area, allowing Veronica to listen to her own thoughts.

“Looks about done,” Zack said. He swept up the last of the crushed moon rock from in front of the airlock and dropped the debris into the waste-can. Veronica paused her mopping and placed both hands on the top of the handle to rest.

“Thanks,” she said. “For…you know, helping me out.”

“Don’t mention it.” He walked over to her. “That’s what co-workers do for one another. Besides, I’ve been wanting to mess with that guy for a while now. Hopefully he doesn’t come back.”

They both turned to the sound of the airlock opening, Veronica fearing the alien had returned and possibly with reinforcements this time, but it was only their manager. Bill flashed his gums to the smell of disinfectant.

“Place looks pretty good,” he said. “Glad to see you didn’t burn it down.” He walked in, careful to avoid the wet floor. He asked Veronica, “Anything happen while I was gone?”

“It was pretty uneventful.” She caught Zack looking at her and they both fought against laughing. She said, “But good, nonetheless. I think I’ll stick around for a while.”

“Good to hear,” Bill said and went into his office.

Zack sidled up to her. “You’re not going to quit then?”

She took a deep breath and a reflective look came over her. “There are worse ways to earn money.”

END