Accidentally Married

Five // Chicken Nuggets for Life

After their lips were sealed and their relationship was pronounced as forever, they decided to go to the so-called reception they formulated their heads, and had mutually agreed that they would eat at McDonald’s, at two in the morning.

They wanted to invite the priest and the nuns who were playing mah-jong as well, but they declined, because they were fasting. It seemed like they weren’t exhausted from the long walks they were doing, because they reached the said fast-food chain in a very energetic aura.

Samantha was jumping up and down like a cheerleader while Christian pushed the glass door open, the cool air-condition swooshing past them. Customers were barely there while the duo staggered on the counter, the cashier whose black mane was covered with a hairnet smiled at them, her lips painted in red. She looked jovial.

“Good morning ma’am and sir, how can I help you?” she asked politely, her lips curved up like it was drilled on her face, her fingers tapping on the buttons of the monitor.

Samantha barked out a shrill laugh. “I want ten orders of chicken nuggets, with a banana sundae and a ten happy meals that are also chicken nuggets,” she said.

Charlene, which was printed on her nametag, in a swift manner tapped all the buttons, her brown eyes darting towards the woman and the man. Her round brown eyes—which were identical to Rapunzel’s from Tangled—widened, a size larger to her already enormous eyes. “Do you want anything else?”

“I hope your Minion collectibles are available and complete,” Sam answered, her blue eyes twinkling when they averted to the screens mounted at the bottom of the ceiling, the cute poses of Kevin, Stuart and Bob making her gush out loud. Charlene nodded with a smile still on her face.

The cashier announced the amount they were going to pay, Sam fished out another thousand dollars from her pocket, and winking at her to keep the change. Charlene almost hyperventilated at the extra cash she had on her hands, because she was a single mom raising a five-year-old son and that money was a great help to pay off the fees.

“Are you going to eat that all?” Christian asked once they placed around five trays, with the aid of the workers, on the table. Sam giggled at him loudly—and their drunkenness was wearing off a little bit too slow.

“Of course not, silly. You’re going to eat one meal while I eat the rest,” she replied, starting to gobble down the food, realizing she was too hungry, stuffing all of the chicken nuggets inside her mouth while a large red box (a happy meal) sat gloriously at the edge of the table and Sam could imagine a spotlight focusing on it.

She hastily grabbed the box and opened it, her eyes lighting up in delight when she saw the sight of different Minion collectibles that were secured inside a three-dimensional square plastic.

“Oh, my gosh!” she gushed loudly, causing Christian to choke on his last chicken nugget, his hand desperate to grab the plastic cup of Sprite that was mere centimetres from him. He coughed loudly.

“Is something wrong?” Christian asked worriedly once he could catch his breath.

“No,” Sam squealed, hugging all of the Minion collectibles on her arms, caressing them as if they were real-life babies. Christian stared at her and wondered, would she be a great mother to their children in the future?

It was a harmless question to be asked to his wife so he opened his mouth asked, “How many kids do you want?”

Sam placed all the Minion collectibles inside the happy meal box gingerly, her blue eyes gazing over Christian. “Around seven I guess,” she shrugged nonchalantly in reply and Christian smirked at her, mischief clouding his eyes.

“Well then, we should probably start if you want us to have seven kids,” he suggested playfully. Samantha rolled her eyes. She chewed on the chicken nuggets frivolously as she winked at Christian. Her stomach was still in a grumbling mess and the last meal of chicken nugget she ordered was not satiating her hunger.

She needed more food.

She stood up and went back to the counter, ordering another ten sets of chicken nugget meals. Christian stayed put on his seat, watching his wife order with an amusing glint tinting his eyes. Seeing her hungry was entertaining his dull life. She then plopped back to her seat and a few minutes later, ten meals of chicken nuggets were laid on the table, Samantha licking her lips. Christian was about to steal one chicken nugget meal but Sam immediately swatted his hand.

Christian rubbed the spot where Sam swatted him, his arm growing a little bit of red. It seemed she was too oblivious of the mark she was giving him or maybe she saw it but didn’t care if he was hurt by her or something.

“This is so delicious,” Sam moaned. It had been a long time since she had binge-eating and she could feel her stomach protruding against her white dress. While they were about to get married, she opted for a white dress that was inside her brown bag (don’t ask her how she was able to fit a dress in her bag) so as to look appropriate on their unplanned wedding with Christian, the man who was sitting in front of her. She felt that he was staring—more like scrutinizing her—but she didn’t feel uncomfortable.

The food slowly travelled down to her oesophagus then down to her stomach and suddenly, she felt satisfied. No one was there to tell her eating too much was wrong. Even Christian was silently whistling as if he didn’t find it absurd she was eating more than a normal person did.

“Do you… uh, want to eat my nuggets?” Samantha bashfully asked Christian, a rise of a blush escaping through her cheeks. He looked so intimidating with his expressionless face, and the lighting contoured the sharpness of his face.

“I thought you didn’t want me to eat the meals you bought?” he asked back and Sam blushed even harder, if that was even possible.

“You look hungry,” she replied as she pushed one of the chicken nugget meals to his space. He tentatively accepted it, thinking she might slap his arm again. She didn’t, much to his relief.

“Thanks,” he said and dug in, his stomach growling loudly. Sam laughed at the reaction the stomach of Christian gave, as she finished the remaining three meals, and giving Christian another four meals.

“Chicken nuggets for life!” she exclaimed all of a sudden, raising her plastic fork in the air.

Christian mimicked her actions. “Chicken nuggets for life!” Some customers who were eating looked at them chanting, as if they were becoming a cult religiously praising chicken nuggets, except they were eating them. Surprisingly, they followed Sam and Christian’s actions, expressively raising their plastic utensils in the air.

The workers of the McDonald’s also followed until Sam was already standing on one of the tables, raising her arm in the air. “Chicken nuggets for life, my people!” She was like the leader of a starting movement and she felt pride surging inside her chest.

“Chicken nuggets for life! Chicken nuggets for life!” the rest of the people—including Christian—roared as if it was their mantra.

“Chicken nuggets are the best food in the world!” Sam screamed, feeling empowered at the moment, as if nothing could stop her.

“Chicken nuggets are the best food in the world!” the people around her echoed and applauded for her braveness to stand on the table. Apparently, there was a black blotch on the cream table, courtesy to her footwear, but they couldn’t care less about it.

Suddenly, she could feel the table wobbling, and then everything happened in a speed of lightning. She lost her balance, her back diving first on the ground as she closed her eyes, feeling the impact crashing, akin to an aching feeling but there seemed to be none.

She peeked an eye open, seeing that she was caught through the arms of her husband, a smirk sloppily marking his lips, grinning mischievously at her.

“I caught you,” he said and winked and everyone in the background cooed at the scene.

Sam immediately stood up without permission (without telling Christian that she would get back to her feet) and she almost wobbled on her stance. She scanned the room and they were looking back at her with awe around their eyes.

“Ma’am,” the cashier walked towards them, her eyes slightly covered with fear, “I am sorry but you need to pay for the damaged table.”

Sam darted her vision on the table she stood on and purely, it was wrecked by her weight. She realized she was still as heavy as a whale for the table could not support her like when she was a five-year-old kid pretending to be a rock star and making the table as her stage.

“Okay,” she answered without a blink, pulling out a few wads of bills. “Is this enough to cover for the damages?”

The cashier nodded and immediately scurried away.

“Let’s get out of here,” Christian said, grabbing the Minion collectibles and placed them inside the Happy Meal box. Sam nodded in agreement, badly wanting to lie down on a comfy bed and sleep for the rest of the eternity.