FFT08
[Date | Nov-23-24]
[Barista | Hazelnut]
[Subject | Flurrdo’s Frozen Treats]
[File Reference | FFT08]
Ahahaha… getting a job at a Fast Food joint was, perchance, a bad idea. Sneaking into a manager’s meeting? That was a shit idea. Perchance. I believe it was Kant who said, “Experience without theory is blind, but theory without experience is mere intellectual play.” I exhibit this experience by getting myself into increasingly silly scenarios. Keep it up, baby! Anyway, everyone who is anyone was there. All of Mina’s big boys and even the glitter-boy (is that a slur? It sounds like a slur…), Sir. Flurrdo himself.
I kept to the shadows, naturally, pretending to be one of the more important paper-pushing people in the operation. I was fine—until one of the night guards brushed past me, and I swear they hesitated, their eyes narrowing like they caught a whiff of something that didn’t belong. My heart was halfway up my throat when the glitter-boy himself entered, drawing all eyes to the altar. Saved by the creepy, glowing figurehead. Lucky, lucky me.
And then, Flurddo’s plan dropped. A key follower—a “Chosen”—was to ascend. This week. On Thursday. Thanksgiving, actually. Not a particularly, you know, ceremonial holiday, but hey—maybe it’s just a coincidence. Now, I’ve seen their frozen treat ritual before. The little swirl of the soft serve. It’s ‘gusting—dead ass. But, worse, Flurrdo seems to think that he’s worked out all the kinks in his ice cream machine, and this “Chosen” one will be the first to serve a perfect swirl of chocolate and vanilla.
…And, okay, out of the Diner for a sec, I don’t think I can watch another human get twisted into one of those shimmering, static-filled abominations. I know I shouldn’t intervene—it’d blow my cover, our cover, maybe even get me killed… but… they can’t kill me in my true form, can they? When Hazelnut leaves his place of safety to stomp a glitter-boy, he knows that he may Die.