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"So. I have a quick, tiny question." Why are both of them smiling? You fucking hate that. They shouldn't be smiling. Oh, there they go. Back to normal. Silly goobers. "Have you seen any suspicious people around? Perhaps a man in silver?" You doubt you flatout hallucinated your conversation with him an hour or so ago.
"Well, I wouldn't know about suspicious but I think I recall seeing a gentleman in an outfit around him." Adam raises a finger to his chin. "I can't quite recall his face but he would always-"
Adam is interrupted by his co-chef slamming his fist down onto the table. <span class="mu-r">There's a very noticeable crack on the faux wood countertop.</span> Benedict is staring you down like you asked him if he took a shit on his mother's grave. The anger doesn't last long however.
He looks down at his hand. A gash covers the back of his hand yet <span class="mu-b">there's no blood dripping out of it.</span> "What were we talking about again?" There's an honest confusion to his tone. He turns to look back at the kitchen as if he didn't just have a temper tantrum.
You and Benjamin glance at each other then back at Benedict. Alexis and Adam are completely dumbfounded. He barely seems to notice the four people staring at him.
[UNSTABLE] SOMETHING IS THREATENING TO BURST FROM HIM. YOU DO NOT HAVE LONG UNTIL THE MISSION ENDS ONE WAY OR ANOTHER, DEAR NICOLE.
"Next question. I don't want to talk about this bullshit conspiracy nonsense." Benedict clicks his tongue. "You're wasting my time as is. After those puppets fuck fought in MY god damn restaurant? The slow days are one thing-" He mutters on about nothing in particular.
"Well, I don't think a fight is enough to ruin a restaurant." Alexis coughs. It's obvious she's just trying to break the ice caused by the aborted questioning a few minutes ago.
"It all adds up." Benedict clicks his tongue again. "You wouldn't understand what it takes to reach PERFECTION. No one gets the FUCKING CRAFT ANYMORE!" He grips onto the faux wood table. <span class="mu-r">A human shouldn't be able to crack wood that easily.</span> Wisely, no one openly questions this to him.
"W-well, i-it seems like there might be other reasons why it's, uh, getting less customers. I heard a few rumors-" You get interrupted by another snap of wood. "WHAT. FUCKING. RUMOR?"
"Benedict, control yourself." Adam slaps the back of Benedict's head with an open palm. For now, Benedict stops gripping onto the table. "Could you explain what these rumors are, Miss Smith? Anything that could damage our brand is something we are very invested in."
"Well, one of my friends, uh...Benjamin." You point a finger at him. "He tried a burger here before." You can see the gears grinding in his head. It takes him a solid minute of silence to realize you're asking him to play along.
"Yeah, yeah! It was a nice burger. Had something weird in the middle, something green and yellow. Some sort of liquid. Kinda reminded me of those energy boxes people buy."
The two chefs don't respond.
