Hey, folks! The name's Jacob, just your average American guy. I happen to be the owner and one of the kickass cooks at this awesome burger joint called Beef and Beefy. But man, let me tell ya, today's got me all worked up.
You're probably wondering what's got my knickers in a twist, right? Well, it ain't no life-or-death situation, but it sure feels like it. I'm talking about being on the brink of burnout from all this crazy work, my friends.
I can practically hear ya asking, "Dude, what's the big deal? Is there some psycho boss breathing down your neck?" Nah, nothing that dramatic. It's just that the workload is piling up faster than I can flip burgers. It's like a never-ending marathon, and I'm running on fumes here.
Let me take you back to a couple of hours ago when Tony Stark, yeah, Iron Man himself, waltzed into our joint. Tony's a regular here, always flashing that billionaire grin and leaving hefty tips. But this time, he rolls in with a buddy, and let me tell ya, this dude was a beast!
I'm talkin' tall as a skyscraper, built like a brick house, muscles bulging like nobody's business. It was like having Mr olympia himself grace our humble burger joint. At first, I thought it was gonna be a cash cow, you know? Big guy means big appetite, right?
So Tony, being his usual cool self, orders his usual combo: two cheeseburgers, fries, and a soda. No biggie. But then I turn to his colossal friend and ask what he wants. And that's when things take a wild turn, my friends.
This dude looks at me with this big grin and says, "Bring me everything until you guys run out of food."
Now, you might think he's joking, right? I sure as hell did. But then I glance over at Tony, who seemed amused by the situation. He nodded, signaling me to comply. So, naturally, I figure, why not give it a shot? How bad could it be?
Fast forward a few hours, and I'm knee-deep in chaos. The kitchen is a war zone, sizzlin' and fryin' like there's no tomorrow. I've been slinging patties left and right, flipping fries like a madman, and pouring soda like it's the end of the world.
But here's the kicker, my friends. This beast of a man, he's eating everything in sight like it's a competitive sport. I'm talkin' burgers by the dozen, fries by the truckload, and soda like it's goin' out of style. It's like his stomach is a black hole, I swear!
By this point, I'm on the ground on the verge of tears. Am I crying over burgers? Damn straight, I am. I can't feel my legs anymore!!
Bam!
Suddenly i pain on the back of my head and I find myself staring up at my fiery wife, Maria, who holding a freakin' frying pan like she's about to go medieval on my sorry ass.
"Quit blubbering' and get back in there!" she yells, giving me a whack on the head with the pan. "Stark's buddy wants more food, and we ain't quittin' till he's stuffed!"
"Alright, alright, no need to hit me again!" I groan as I pick myself up off the floor.
And so here i am, Standing there making food while sobing and cursing the day that guy walked into my restaurant.
---(Back to Noah and Tony)---
"So, do people from your race always eat like this?" Tony asked, his face filled with awe.
(Chomp)
(Chomp)
(Chomp)
(Chomp)
(Chomp)
Noah was tearing through the food like a hungry beast, devouring burgers, munching on fries, and gulping down soda without missing a beat.
After a few moments, he glanced at Tony and replied, "Pretty much. My people are known as a warrior race, so we need a lot of fuel to keep up with our physique." He went back to his eating frenzy, stacking seven burgers together, and with a resounding crack, dislocated his jaw to fit them all in his mouth.
(Chomp)
(Chomp)
(Chomp)
(Chomp)
(Chomp)
"I don't know why, but I can't tear my eyes away. It's like watching a car crash—you just can't look away," Tony remarked, capturing the spectacle on his phone.
Curiously, he thought he heard distant cries coming from the kitchen, but dismissed it as mere imagination. Probably just the wind playing tricks, as they say.
As Noah seemed to continue his endless feast, Tony grew bored and started scrolling through his phone, losing interest in the never-ending eating marathon.
After some time, the door of the restaurant swung open, and a group of heavily armed individuals in black rushed in, surrounding Tony's table and aiming their high-tech guns at Noah.
Tony questioned the situation, "What's going on here?"
(Chomp)
(Chomp)
(Chomp)
Noah paid no attention to the commotion, focused solely on his meal.
Suddenly, a commanding voice echoed through the room, "Good to see you again, Tony."
The agents made way as Nick Fury, dressed in his signature long coat, strode in.
At the sight of Nick, Tony's eyes turned cold and annoyed. "Ah, it's you. Didn't I make it clear last time that I have no interest in joining your group?"
"Oh, I'm well aware of that. I'm not here for you, Tony. I'm here for him," Nick replied, pointing his finger toward Noah.
"Well, it seems you didn't come here for a friendly chat. Let me ask you something," Tony said, his expression a mix of coldness and curiosity. "Are you sure you can handle whatever you're planning to do right now? This guy here is trouble, you know?"
Upon hearing Tony's question, Nick stared at him with determination and said, "I came prepared," gesturing for his reinforcements to step forward.
Heavy footsteps resonated in the room as two figures entered the restaurant. The first was Captain America, donning his iconic blue uniform and shield, while the second was Captain Marvel, her eyes glowing with power and fists ready for action.
Nick turned his attention back to Noah, who continued eating unperturbed, completely ignoring everyone around him.
Fixing his gaze upon Noah's back, Nick declared, "Noah the alien, you're under arrest as an illegal immigrant alien, charged with crimes against the United States and it people. I advise you not to resist, or we will use force!"
(To be continued)
---------------------------------------
[Nobody expect the back to back upload schedule!! A/N]