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"Num num," Nanaue repeated, over and over, all the way to McDonald's. "Num num. Num num. Num num. Num num. Num num."
At some point, Harley Quinn joined in with this simple ritual, completing her part of the chant with extra-loud singing of the words and slamming her hands in a rhythm on the bus seat in front of her, causing a very annoyed Polka-Dot Man to lean forward with a clenched jaw for the majority of the journey.
When the restaurant came into view, there were multiple sighs and mutterings of annoyance in the back of the bus as everybody saw how long the queue was. Rick Flag considered ordering Milton, the man at the wheel, to simply turn around and forget about it, but he knew that his team would never let it go. He didn't want to waste a semi-good squad to a resounding desertion to McDonald's in the middle of a fight.
Really, he didn't. It had happened once, and Waller never forgave him.
"Can you please stop that?" Rick shouted to Harley and Nanaue - especially Nanaue - as the bus shuttered to a halt at the back of the painfully long line.
Nanaue's eyes softened with disappointment and he slumped forwards, his large slimy hands on his legs.
"Well done, Flag," Harley said sarcastically, folding her arms. "Now you've upset him. We're just having a bit of fun, ain't we, Sharky?"
"Just fun," Nanaue parroted bluntly, his voice lower than usual.
"Why would you say that?" Ratcatcher asked Rick, absent-mindedly stroking the sleepy Sebastian in her hand. "He's being all sad now."
"What he's being is a cocky shark trying to guilt-trip us into letting him do whatever he wants," Rick said.
This appeared to deeply aggravate Nanaue, but instead of taking real action he just continued his "num num" chant, this time a whole lot louder with a whole lot more slamming on the seats. Harley joined in, and so did Ratcatcher. And so did Thinker, who had previously been so silent during the journey that had Bloodsport not been constantly watching the chains keeping him attached to his seat, they all would've forgot he was with them.
"Now look what you've done," Peacemaker scolded.
The new chant was the last straw for Rick, whose eyes would have exploded the heads of everyone in the bus if their gaze was deadly.
"In a minute," he said in a low voice, pointing to the driver's seat, "I'm gonna take that wheel and I'm gonna drive us all into a-"
"Fuck," Bloodsport interrupted him, furrowing his brow.
"What?"
"We should've written a list. There's, like, nine different orders to take."
"No, it's cool, I've done this kind of shit for teams before. We should probably get this over with before we get to the front of the queue, if I know what you're all like. We'll do drinks first," he said, then stood up, snapped his fingers twice and raised his voice. "Okay, everyone, shut the fuck up for a minute. Hands up who wants Coke."
Nanaue's chant finally died down and a few hands were raised, but Milton interrupted the conversation. He pointed up to a big sign ahead of them.
"It's 50% off on milkshakes," he said, reading from the board. Milton then opened up the glove compartment to grab a little notepad and pen to write down the orders, knowing it would be a lot to remember and he'd probably be asking the employee at the mic for everything but the kitchen sink.
"God, I'd kill for a milkshake," Peacemaker muttered.
"Alright, change of plan," Rick decided. "What flavor milkshakes do we want? Hands up for chocolate."
Bloodsport and Ratcatcher raised their hands, so Rick told Milton to order two as well as one for Rick himself.
"Hands up for strawberry."
Peacemaker and Nanaue raised their hands.
"Two strawberries," Rick said to Milton.
"Hang on, I want strawberry too," Thinker announced.
"Nice anecdote, Professor Starfish," Bloodsport said before Flag could reply, not even glancing at the man he was addressing. "Just the two strawberries, thanks," he continued loudly to Milton, who nodded quickly and carried on scratching out the orders.
"Alright," Rick said slowly. "And... hands up for banana."
Harley and Milton held up their hands.
"Okay. Now, what food... wait a sec. Krill didn't order anything. Abner, what flavor do you want?"
Silence.
"Abner."
Everyone peered over to the silent Polka-Dot Man, who was now sitting back in his seat again. He was looking out of the window, but the blank look on his face made it clear that he was simply staring into space.
"Abner," Rick repeated.
"Hey, Polka-Dot Guy!" Peacemaker called back to him impatiently.
"Abner!" Rick shouted, finally getting Polka-Dot Man's attention and making him jump in the process. "For fuck's sake."
"What's happening?" he replied, dazed.
"What do you want?"
"Huh?"
"Milkshakes," Rick said exasperatedly. "We're getting milkshakes. What flavor do you want?"
"Oh. Uh... I'll just have vanilla."
"Of course you would," he sighed. "One vanilla," he said to Milton. "Alright, now here's the part I dread: what does everyone want to eat?"
The sound that followed was exactly the one Rick had both been expecting and had heard many times before: the sound of many different voices all saying completely different and incomprehensible things at the same time, all getting louder and clamouring to be heard over the noise of everyone else doing the very same thing.
He stared back at the group in silence for a good minute before taking a deep breath and beginning to speak again.
"I don't know why I even asked it like that, because I knew it wasn't gonna end well," he said, almost screaming in the struggle to be heard. "Listen, I'll say your name and you tell me what you want, alright?"
He didn't wait for an answer and began the interrogation. He pointed at the first person who came to mind. "DuBois."
"A Big Mac and fries, no pickles."
Rick paused briefly to glance at Milton, who was already writing it down. "Done. Nanaue."
"Twenty twenty chicken nuggets."
"Twenty chicken nuggets, okay. Smi-"
"No," Nanaue interrupted. "Twenty twenty chicken nuggets."
"Yeah, I heard you the first time. Twenty chicken nuggets."
"Twenty twenty chicken nuggets."
"Twenty twenty- what?" Rick demanded. "You're trying to tell me, what? You want two thousand and twenty chicken nuggets?"
"Twenty twenty chicken nuggets," Nanaue said, nodding.
"I don't have that kinda money, bud. You can't have that many."
Nanaue hummed in thought for a while, then gasped with a sudden idea. "Nineteen twenty chicken nuggets," he said.
"Look, I'm just getting you twenty, alright? We don't have time for this, the queue's already dying down."
Nanaue huffed and grumbled something incoherent but aggressive about chicken nuggets, but everyone ignored him.
"Smith," Rick said next, pointing at Peacemaker. "What are you having?"
"Uh..." he said slowly, with a following pause so long that Rick nearly moved onto the next person. "...I'll get a sweet chilli wrap," he decided eventually.
"One sweet chilli wrap," Flag repeated. "Krill, what about you?"
"Can we just get this over with, please?"
"I'm taking that as another wrap. Harley."
"Five grilled chicken wraps," she said in a sing-song voice, beaming.
"One grilled chicken wrap," Flag corrected her, his expression unchanging. "This is coming out of my paycheck."
"I'll pay for them," Harley insisted.
"You don't have any money on you."
"Oh yeah."
Rick rolled his eyes. "Cazo."
"Large fries and a hamburger with just ketchup."
"Excuse me?" Peacemaker demanded.
Ratcatcher furrowed her brow. "I said, large fries and a-"
"Just ketchup?" he asked, with a face like she'd just asked for a burger with human meat.
"Yeah."
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
She shrugged. "I just don't really like vegetables and mustard. I don't see what the problem-"
Peacemaker interrupted her by scoffing and slouching back in his seat. "This generation is fucked."
"Okay, large fries and a hamburger with just ketchup," Rick repeated, pulling an expression similar to Peacemaker's. "I'll have a McChicken sandwich and - fuck it - two large fries. Milton, you can get whatever, just make it cheap. And... yep, that's it."
He took another deep breath like he'd just given a two-hour speech and slumped back down.
"I can't help but notice you've forgotten me again," Thinker said.
"Don't worry, we remember you," Bloodsport replied, and said nothing more.
Rick looked wearily at the few vehicles left ahead of them outside the restaurant, still heaving for breaths. "And now we wait."
***
"You know, I think I'm the only person in this bus who doesn't look like a cartoon," Bloodsport said as they waited for their orders to be made.
"Not true," Rick argued, gesturing down at his own outfit.
"Nah, you're just proving my point. What's the T-shirt about? What animal is that supposed to be? What does the writing even say?"
"Not a clue," he replied. "Look, it was on sale and I needed something to wear in the summer, alright? I don't actually like it. You wouldn't see me dead in this."
"So you were wearing that under your military stuff the whole...?" Bloodsport began, then stopped himself and shook his head. "That's beside the point. Yellow T-shirt and big boots. What do you think you are, a duck?"
"What ducks have you seen?" Rick laughed. "You're one to talk in that helmet, it makes you look like a character from- shit, food's ready."
Rick could've paid Milton for writing down everybody's orders that fast, as well as further money for reading everything out to the speaker without slipping up, but he knew his wallet was already screaming for help after the food itself. He got paid a fair amount for what he did, but he was supposed to use the cash in his wallet for things that they actually needed during the mission.
He doubted milkshakes were that vital to everybody's survival.
After beginning to collect the food from Milton and hand it out, it became obvious to Rick that the orders had been messed up slightly. He thought it understandable, given how much the employees had to sort out for the one vehicle, but he prayed none of the Task Force X members would twig something was wrong; he knew how unforgiving and stubborn they'd be about it.
Of course, this was just wishful thinking.
"Colonel Flag," Ratcatcher called, rummaging through the paper bags, "there isn't a burger in here."
"Are you sure?"
She looked for a few more seconds, then sighed in defeat. "I'm sure. All I could find was an extra box of chicken nuggets that nobody asked for."
"Twenty twenty?" Nanaue asked eagerly.
"No, just eight."
"Well, you'll have to have them, then," Rick said. "I'm not ordering again."
"I don't want them," she whined.
"Then go hungry. It's not my problem you're such a picky eater."
"Score!" Harley said triumphantly. "Two grilled chicken wraps!"
"One of those is mine," Polka-Dot Man said, turning around to face her.
"You wanted sweet chilli, though, didn't ya?"
"I didn't ask for... whatever, we've only got one over here."
"Or Peacemaker just took both wraps and didn't tell you?" she suggested.
"If I took Polka-Dot's sweet chilli wrap, you know I would eat it directly in front of him to make him jealous," Peacemaker said.
"Good point," Harley said, passing one of the wraps over.
"Thanks," Polka-Dot Man mumbled.
The noise only died down for a matter of seconds before another mistake was brought up.
"What the fuck?!" Peacemaker shouted, causing everyone to stare at him.
"What?" half of them said in perfect unison.
"We didn't get any fries."
"Yeah, I noticed that too," Ratcatcher said. "So now I have nothing I want."
"Don't start," Rick snapped, pointing at her. He then moved his arm to point at the man. "You didn't even say you wanted fries, how is that your problem?"
"There's a little thing called sharing, Flag," he said matter-of-factly, rolling his eyes. "Bloodsport wouldn't've minded sparing a fry or two with his old pal Chris, would you, Bobby?"
"Call me Bobby again and you'll know exactly how I feel about you."
"See? And how is it that you've got two boxes of fries and we've got none?"
"Because I paid for them out of my own pocket, unlike you guys," Rick retorted.
"So you're just gonna eat them in front of us and watch us starve?"
"Don't be dramatic, you've got food."
"Yeah, with the orders fucked up. You're the only one who got exactly what they asked for."
Rick looked angry, but listened to what Peacemaker said anyway. Partially to avoid getting into a fight while they were still parked by the open window of the restaurant, but mostly just to shut everybody up the best he could.
"Front of the bus," Rick said, his voice mimicking one he would use for a group of stupid children. He passed the first box of fries to Bloodsport and gestured over to Nanaue, Milton and himself. "Back of the bus," he continued in the same voice, passing the other portion to Ratcatcher and pointing to Harley, Peacemaker and Polka-Dot Man. "Happy?"
"No, I'm not happy," Peacemaker argued. "I have to share this thimble of fries with these clowns? Are you serious?"
"Does it really matter?" Polka-Dot Man sighed.
Peacemaker glared at him, causing him to look away uncomfortably. "Of course it fucking matters," he bellowed. "What are we, communists? The day I share my fries is the day I die."
"They're not your fries, dumbass, Flag said we have to share."
Peacemaker's eyebrows raised and he held his mouth open for a few seconds before replying. "What did you just say to me?" he asked slowly.
Polka-Dot Man's expression stiffened. "Nothing."
"That's what I thought," he scoffed. "Cleo, pass me the fries."
Ratcatcher followed orders but almost immediately regretted it when she saw how many of them Peacemaker began to eat. Luckily Harley was there to stop him and snatch the box... only to take most of the rest herself. She then passed the box to Polka-Dot Man, who immediately held it out to Ratcatcher with an expectant look on his face.
She took one and gave it to Sebastian but let Polka-Dot Man have the rest, instead opening the box of nuggets she was supposedly refusing to eat.
"Right," Rick sighed, "are we good?"
There were a few mumbles of agreement through burger buns and milkshake straws.
"Good."
The bus was put into motion again, Rick breathing a sigh of relief once more. He didn't know how many more days it would take for him to be able to go home, but he knew that when he did he'd get into bed and sleep the next three weeks away, at least.
But, obviously, barely five seconds had passed before the next problem occured.
"Stop the bus!" Peacemaker screamed.
Milton slammed on the breaks.
"What now?" Rick demanded.
Peacemaker held up the drinks holder with a look of disbelief on his face. "They gave me the wrong milkshake. I specifically asked for strawberry and what did they do? Three chocolates, two bananas, one vanilla and a random fucking two extra bananas!"
"Maybe they just don't have strawberry," Rick told him.
"The women in the car in front of us had strawberry," Thinker piped up. "And the man in the speaker would've told you if they were out."
"You're not helping."
"My deepest apologies," he replied sarcastically.
"Nanaue didn't get strawberry," Ratcatcher tried to reason, "and he doesn't even care."
"That's because he's a fucking shark," Peacemaker said. "He'd drink piss if we gave it to him."
"Me not like banana McMilkshake," Nanaue said.
"It's okay," Ratcatcher reassured him in a much softer voice. "We can swap drinks. You can have my chocolate and I'll have the banana. Is that alright?"
Nanaue nodded.
"Why didn't they give us what we ordered?!" Peacemaker continued, his voice raising drastically. "If they expect me to take this banana milkshake and move on with my life, they are sorely mistaken. You'd better not have paid for this; it's a disgrace."
"It's just a milkshake," Polka-Dot Man said, holding his own towards Peacemaker. "Look, you can have mine and I'll have yours if it matters that much, okay?"
"I don't want vanilla, McDipshit," he retorted, reaching to slap the cup out of Polka-Dot Man's hand before he shrank back at the exact right time. "If I wanted a vanilla milkshake, I would've asked for a vanilla fucking milkshake. I want a strawberry milkshake, and I'm having one if it's the last thing I do. Back the bus up now, Flag, or this cup is going so far up your ass you'll be choking on the straw."
"Can we not do anything without someone throwing a tantrum?!" Rick demanded rhetorically, gesturing for Milton to reverse.
"What the fuck are you doing?" the man in the car behind them shouted, slamming his hand down on the horn.
"If you don't reverse, we're not paying for the damage," Bloodsport shouted to the man, hauling open the nearest window and sticking his head out of it.
The employee at the window looked confused, still holding the drinks he was about to give to the man behind them. He also asked the exact same question as him.
Everyone looked to Peacemaker, knowing he would be the one taking action. However, they weren't aware how much action he was willing to take, all for the sake of his drink.
With one hand, he reached for his helmet. With the other, he picked up one of his guns.
"Stay put," he told them, "I can handle this."
***
They didn't need to see the chaos in the restaurant to understand exactly what was happening.
Peacemaker had stepped out of the bus and around the corner to the front door with purpose, all the while brandishing his handgun. As this happened, Rick began a casual chat with the very confused employee - Levi, his name tag said - at the window, stalling his calling of the police for as long as humanely possible. He didn't look very old, most likely younger than Cleo, and he definitely didn't look very calm.
The gunshots started shortly after the conversation began, followed by screaming, some crashing noises and a startled "fuck". Two warning shots into the ceiling, judging by the noises of the falling tiles, as if everyone wasn't already terrified into submission.
"What the fuck does he think he's playing at?" Bloodsport thought out loud, craning his neck to try and get a glimpse of the commotion through Levi's window.
"Getting a strawberry milkshake, duh," Harley replied. "Y'know, it's kinda boring in here. There's a weird vibe," she said, gesturing semi-vaguely to Polka-Dot Man in front of her. "I think I'm gonna go join him."
With those words she stood up and grabbed Gunter Braun's javelin from the back seat with one hand, brushing her ponytails in front of her shoulders with the other.
"Don't you fucking dare," Bloodsport warned, pointing at her grimly.
"Why not?"
"It goes without saying, doesn't it?"
She pretended to think for a moment. "Not really," she said, then started walking down to the front of the bus.
"Please," he said desperately as she passed him, "don't." He lowered his voice. "There's little kids in there."
"Chillax, big guy," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'll only kill the parents."
"Harley!" he shouted, reaching out to grab her arm, but it was too late. She skipped past him and hopped cheerily out of the bus.
Bloodsport pinched the bridge of his nose.
"She won't kill them, y'know," Rick said back to him, pausing the weather conversation with Levi. "The parents. I've met her before. She's... fucking bonkers, but not like that."
He looked at Rick doubtfully.
"...probably. 50/50. 60/40. We'll see."
"Hey, kid, how's it going?" they heard a familiar voice say suddenly.
Peacemaker had now made his way to where Levi was standing, directly opposite where a dozen horrified waiters and waitresses would've been, had they not already been occupied trying to prevent a javelin-guided massacre in the main seating area.
Levi looked like he was going to cry, but instead took a deep breath and tried to act calm. He put down the drinks holder (that he had been holding for the man and his family in the car behind the bus for the past three minutes) on the counter, adjusted his golden M-branded cap and slowly turned to face the man holding him hostage.
"I'm alright," he stuttered out, trying his best to ignore the gun pointed in his face. "How are you?"
"Me?" Peacemaker replied conversationally. "Yeah, I'm good, thanks for asking. Hey, you wouldn't happen to know where a man could get his hands on a strawberry milkshake, would you?"
"Oh my God!" Thinker shouted, trying his best to act scared. "No! How can this be happening? I wasn't expecting this to happen! I can't believe it! You're being robbed, Levi, you're being robbed!"
"Yeah, what he said!" Rick said, agreeing with him for once. It was a half-assed and not-at-all convincing attempt at getting everyone in their vicinity to not suspect anything, but he hoped it would hold everyone off for at least a few minutes. Which, hopefully, was all Peacemaker needed.
"No," Levi said to Rick and Thinker, his voice shaking. "You know this asshole. You all do. He was in the bus with you a few minutes ago. I'm calling the police."
He reached for his cellphone on the counter, but with a pull of Peacemaker's trigger it exploded into mere shards.
"Alright, no more Mr. Nice Guy," Peacemaker said lowly. "I don't want any trouble, I just want my milkshake. And if I don't get said milkshake, well..."
He looked around for a way to threaten the teenager, and his eyes settled on the full drinks holder. It held a Coca-Cola, a Sprite and two coffees. Well, it did. Not for very long.
"This'll be your face..."
He shot through the Coke.
"...your heart..."
He shot through the Sprite.
"... and your balls."
He shot through the coffees.
"Capiche?"
"Yes, sir," Levi mumbled.
"Sorry, what was that?" he asked, cupping his free hand over where his ear was under the helmet. "I couldn't hear you."
"Yes, sir," he said louder.
"Great. Now get to work."
Levi, wisely, said nothing more and instead began shakily making his way over to the milkshake machine, pouring an oversufficient amount of the strawberry stuff into a cup.
And just like that, Peacemaker turned cheerful again. It was a very unsettling thing he was able to do. He could turn the chipper dudebro and ruthless killer personalities - the only two settings he seemed to have - on and off whenever he pleased.
"Sorry for the inconvenience, but a guy's gotta eat- well, drink, y'know?" he said with a soft shrug, watching the employee's every move and not letting his head out of the gun's eyeline.
It took Levi less than a minute to prepare the milkshake, but to him it felt like hours. Eventually he passed it to Peacemaker, gulping.
"Thanks so much, man," he said.
"D-do you w-w-want anything else?" Levi asked.
"Uh... nah," he said, as casually as he had given Rick Flag his food order back in the now-dead queue. "That'll be it."
Peacemaker raised his weapon-wielding arm, making Levi take a step back against the counter and cower in fear, but all he felt was the man's gloved hand (and the cold metal of the handgun) patting his shoulder. It was harsh but grateful, and he felt too scared to move in the following seconds.
"Thanks again, dude," Peacemaker said, with as close to a genuine smile as a fake one could get. "Have a good day."
Bang.
Levi slumped backwards over the counter before falling what-used-to-be-face down with a thud, blood dripping on the pure white floor from the gaping wound above his chin.
Rick, having watched the whole thing from inside the bus, gaped in disbelief for a good few seconds before demanding, "What the fuck was that for?!"
Peacemaker ignored him. Instead, he held up the milkshake triumphantly and gave him a grin and a thumbs-up with the gun still in his hand.
"I'll spare your heart and balls," he told the spurting corpse, patting its back. "You were a good sport."
"Poor Levi," Ratcatcher said, frowning. "Don't look, Sebastian."
Peacemaker wandered back to the bus with no level of urgency, sipping at his ice-cold drink smugly.
"This is one hell of a legacy for that kid," he yelled over to them, pointing at the milkshake. "I'd be happy to die and be remembered through something as delectable as this."
"Yeah, you're not a fucking McDonald's advert, get in the bus," Bloodsport snapped, shoving Peacemaker in the direction of his seat once he got through the door.
"Wait a minute," he said through a mouthful of milkshake after sitting down, glancing at the seats around him. "Where's...?"
His sentence trailed away with a quiet, matter-of-fact "huh", covered up by Bloodsport's loud sigh.
Both noises were caused by Harley's emerging from around the corner. If you had asked everyone on the bus a few moments previous if they had ever seen a smile as shit-eating as Peacemaker's, they would've all said no, but her expression took the cake.
Along her horizontally-brandished javelin were no less than fifteen Happy Meals, all pierced through the cardboard Ms like coat hangers on a hook.
While everyone was distracted with staring at her with utter confusion, Thinker noticed something.
The banana milkshake that Peacemaker didn't want, abandoned in the drinks holder on the armrest of Nanaue's seat across from him. Seeing as the person it was given to didn't want it, and nobody else had taken it, he didn't think anyone would mind if he drank it. Well, they would mind, but as long as they didn't notice it wouldn't matter, would it?
So slowly and cautiously, with as little obvious movement as possible, he reached out with his one free hand and extended it over to the milkshake.
Just as his hand was about to touch it, however, Nanaue noticed what he was doing. In retaliation, he snatched the cup himself with one large hand, the other still holding his own chocolate milkshake. He opened his mouth wide and crushed both cups, downing both flavors at once. He then dropped both cups into his mouth, lids, straws and all.
Thinker gasped in annoyance and looked on at him in rage. "I thought you didn't like banana," he spat.
"But banana chocolate num num," Nanaue replied cheerfully.
"Please tell me you didn't hurt anyone getting your hands on those," Bloodsport said to Harley as she walked back into the bus.
"Physically? No," she replied. "But emotionally... it was carnage. I went a bit overboard, I know," she said. She walked from seat to seat and let the boxes slide off the javelin and into the laps of everybody including Thinker. "It's a lucky dip; I didn't check what was in 'em."
When she reached her own seat, she slumped into it eagerly with the seven remaining Happy Meals and immediately began to open the boxes more than one at a time.
"Oh, and we should probably step on it," she added, tearing open a hamburger wrapper. "I was lookin' around when I was in there and there had to be at least six parents calling the cops."
She carried on opening the boxes, always checking the toys first. She kept the ones she liked and gave the others and the duplicates to Nanaue, who everyone else was also giving any food from their Happy Meals that they didn't want.
"Since when do they sell empanadas?" Polka-Dot Man questioned, looking inside his box.
"They've always had them here," Harley said. "How did you not know that?"
"I've never been to a McDonald's before."
"You've never what?"
"McDonald's," he repeated. "Never been."
"You've never been to McDonald's?" Ratcatcher asked, joining in with the conversation.
"Polka-Dot's never what?" Peacemaker demanded. "Are you kidding? Next you're gonna tell me you've never been to a Burger King."
"They have Burger Kings in America?"
"What the fuck?" he asked loudly and slowly, putting his head in his hands.
"Oh my God!" Harley shouted in disbelief at the same time, shaking her head.
"You're acting like I don't know basic math," Polka-Dot Man said, laughing nervously.
"This is basic math!" Harley insisted. "This is kindergarten stuff! How do you not know what restaurants exist in your own country?!"
"I didn't even live in this country for half of my life and I know what restaurants it has," Ratcatcher said, and after a long pause she continued. "How do you not know? That's so weird."
The argument continued back-and-forth like that for a very long time.
"I don't get paid enough for this McBullshit," Rick muttered as they sped away from the restaurant at top speed, police sirens already shrieking in the distance.