On Feb 24th 2019 at 10:56 PM six employees attacked two customers at a Philadelphia area taco bell

9:52 AM

“Girls just don’t understand me,” Alex declared to his cousin Alina. He paused, waiting for her to react, so she took the bait: “What don’t they understand?”

“Like girls want a guy that will call them every night, but I’m not like that, I’m unpredictable.” Alex could see that Alina wasn’t convinced so he elaborated.

“I mean, I may not always be around, but when I am it’s like—POW!!” The two of them walked together to their job at Taco Bell most days. It was almost a mile across town but neither of them had a car and the taking the bus was slower than walking.

“That’s what happened with me and Camilla, she couldn’t handle me, I was too intense.”

“I heard she caught you cheating on her with Shauntelle?”

“That wasn’t it!” An old Buick rattled down the road past them. Alina checked her phone—they were going to be late again. She hated being late.

“OK, that happened,” Alex confessed, “but that’s not the reason Camila dumped me.”

“I KNEW it!” She slugged him hard in the arm and he recoiled with a growl. Alina was a year older than Alex and growing up they hung out so often they felt more like siblings than cousins. She had gotten him the job six months ago and he was grateful, but he didn’t have a way to show her. Alina always had her life so together that it didn’t seem like he could ever do anything for her.

They crossed Lincoln Street and as they rounded the corner downtown came into view. “This is my favorite part of the walk,” said Alina, “The river, the cathedral…” It makes my world seem less small, she thought but didn’t say.

“Yeah I don’t know why anyone would ever want to leave Philadelphia, it has everything.”

When they reached the restaurant Alina checked her phone again. “We’re a few minutes late so if the manager gives you any trouble just say it was my fault. Say I had cramps; guys don’t understand that stuff anyway.”

1:15 PM

“Where are we gonna eat?” asks Kenisha. Tom waited a moment because he knew that she was just thinking out loud, she already had a place in mind. “How about Cosmo’s?”

Kenisha pulled him into the deli and flounced up to the counter. The muscly guy in a tight white shirt working looked Kenisha up and down—a little too thoroughly for Tom’s liking.

“Hey there,” the muscly guy asked, directed only to her.

“Hi!” Kenisha chirps with a broad smile.

“What can I get ya?”

“We’re ordering together,” interjects Tom awkwardly.

“Yeah we're gonna share—can we just get one regular cheesesteak cut in half? Thanks!”

Tom always worried that Kenisha was too good-looking for him. They dated their freshman and sophomore years of high school and she never cheated on him (that he knew of) but he was always a little insecure. Maybe if he was taller, or had a cooler car.

They sat down to wait for their order. Cosmo’s was fast which was good because their manager only gave them half an hour for a lunch break. Food at work was half-priced but there were only so many burritos you could eat in a week.

“You’re grumpy—what’s up?” Kenisha asks.

“You shouldn’t be so friendly with that guy.”

“Who, Rocco?”

“You know his name?”

“Yeah we come here like every other day.”

“Well, you shouldn’t smile at him so much, it’ll give him the wrong idea.”

“I was just being nice—SHEESH.” This was a lie; Kenisha had been flirting with Rocco for months. She wasn’t planning on doing anything about it—she never did—but for being so faithful she felt she deserved to at least talk to other guys. She decided to change the subject.

“What are we doing this weekend?”

“I dunno, a movie?”

“We always go to the movie theater, I want to get out and DO something! Let’s go dancing at a club!”

“We’re not 21 so we can’t get into any clubs.”

“I know somewhere that doesn’t card. It’s called...B-Side!”

“Let me think about it.”

“Come on don’t be such a wet blanket!” She threw a potato chip at him playfully.

“Alright we’ll go,” Tom acquiesced.

“EEEK! Yay! I need to get a new dress…”

6:15 PM

“You know what I need? A time machine,” proclaimed Jaime. Jamal looks at him puzzled. “A what?”

“A time machine. You know like in Back to the Future.”

“Why do you need that?”

“I always try to make the right call, but I don’t know what the right call was until after I make it and see how everything turns out.” The dinner rush was starting to pick up and the restaurant was getting noisier—friers beeped urgently and people shouted in Spanish. Jamal and Jaime sat in the back booth like they usually did on their break.

“What would you change?” Jamal asked.

“Like last week when I missed that job interview; I thought taking the subway would be better than driving, you know, so I wouldn’t get stuck in traffic on the 76.”

“Yeah the 76 is the worst.”

“Right! But while I was on the subway going to the interview there was a bomb threat and the entire line got shut down for two hours.”

“Man what are the odds…”

“That’s my point! On any other day taking the subway would have been a safer bet, but not that day.”

“So if you had a time machine and you went back and told yourself to drive instead, you wouldn’t have missed the interview.”

“EXACTLY!”

Jamal thought about this for a moment. “But if you didn’t get stuck in the subway, then you wouldn’t have gone back in time to tell yourself to drive instead.” Jaime looked blankly at Jamal. “Why do you always have to shoot down my ideas?” He took a big slurp of his soda.

“So what happened at the interview? They wouldn’t let you come in later?”

“Naw.”

“Those jerks.”

“Maybe this place is fine for now.” Jamal hated when his friend talked this way. Jaime was the smartest person he knew, so working at a fast food place was not where he should be. What he really needed to do was quit so he wouldn’t have any other choice but to move on.

“There are a lot of other things you cou…” before he could finish, Alina poked her head out of the back and said, “hey guys we are starting to get slammed can you jump back on?”

“I thought you could do everything yourself?” Jamal quipped.

“I can, I just like having people to order around.”

8:50 PM

The loosely controlled chaos of the Taco Bell kitchen was gradually spinning out of control. No one catastrophe had derailed the continuous hand-offs of tortillas and beans, but each interaction became slightly less smooth than the one before.

“Where are those grande burritos Jaime?” demanded Alina.

“Hey I’m waiting on the ground beef,” Jaime responded defensively. “Maybe if Kenisha had that covered we’d be caught up.”

“Where is she?” Alina asked. Jamal piped up, “probably on an Instagram break.” Alex jumped on this, “yeah she might need to see a doctor, her phone is stuck to her hand.”

“At least I have people to message on Instagram,” Kenisha retorted as she walked back into the kitchen. Everyone burst into laughter. “Hey I have plenty of…” Alex tried to defend himself but half-way through his thought he slipped on some sour cream and went toppling to the floor. This only amplified the laughter and he knew he was temporarily defeated.

“What the hell is going on back here?!” Stuart the manager interrogated, charging in. Balding, overweight, he always took his job a little too seriously and got upset when everyone else didn’t. The room got quiet and everyone looked instinctively to Alina—as the Assistant Manager (and unofficial surrogate mother to this gang of misfits) they expected her to take responsibility. She always did, but she resented them a little for it.

“Sorry we’ll clean it up!” Alina assured him.

“Good,” he replied, storming out. Jaime helped Alex off of the slimy floor as the rest of the group sheepishly got back to work, avoiding eye contact with Alina.

“Hey Tom,” said Jamal.

  “Yeah?”

“Were you able to talk to your uncle about the job at his car dealership?

“They still need someone. I’d do it but you have to be 18...you interested?”

“It’s not for me, it’s for Jaime. Do you think you can get him an interview?”

“Sure—Jaime’s a great guy.”

“Thanks man, I think he would really appreciate it.” Jamal and Jaime were childhood best friends, but in high school Jamal made the basketball team and Jaime didn’t, and after that things were never quite the same: Jamal was ushered into the in crowd which left Jaime behind. He always felt guilty about this. They started hanging out again after graduation and Jaime was grateful to have him around… but Jamal still felt like he owed him something. The job at the dealership was just running the front desk, but he knew Jaime liked cars, so he thought it would be a good way for him to get a fresh start.

“I’ll text him about it tomorrow,” assured Tom.

10:52  PM

“Where’s my order?!” An angry 6-foot-6 man with a buzz-cut demanded of Kenisha who was hopelessly overwhelmed at the register. “Which number?” she asked plaintively.

“23!” he barked back.

“Um...hold on a sec…”

“I’ve been holding on for 20 minutes, I’m getting pretty tired of that.” Kenisha juggled receipts, clearly lost. “Alina can you help me find this order?” She shouted desperately into the kitchen.

The angry customer's friend, another 6-foot-plus man in an oversized hockey jersey elbowed the first man, “making tacos must be so hard, maybe if her brain was as big as her tits she wouldn’t have so much trouble.” Buzz-Cut snickered.

Tom overheard this and jumped to the counter. “Hey don’t talk about her like that!” “Tom stay out of it,” Kenisha defended herself, her lip quivering.

“What shouldn’t I say? That she has a tiny brain? Or big tits? Cause I can see one of them from where I’m standing.”

Alina came up with a concerned look. “What’s wrong Kenisha?”

“He...he has a receipt for order 23, and I remember putting it in, but it’s not showing up in the system.” Alina gently moved Kenisha to the side and looked intently at the touch screen. “I don’t see it either, but that’s ok. We’ll just go back and make these items quickly.” Kenisha nods, curled under Tom’s arm like a baby bird under her mother’s wing. Tom glares at Hockey-Jersey.

  “I’m very sorry for the delay sir,” Alina says to Buzz-Cut. “We’ll have your order right out. Kenisha can you go make those?” She turns to head back into the kitchen when Buzz-Cut objects. “Naw if I’m going to get a burrito I want it made by a real Mexican.”

Alina gritted her teeth and in the most professional voice she could manage replied, “I assure you any of us can make your order. Tom, give her a hand so we can get everything together as quickly as possible.” 

“No I don’t want THAT bitch to do it, I want YOU to do it!” The volume of the conversation had been steadily increasing but this last insult reached the entire restaurant. The other customers peered around with curiosity. Kenisha’s eyes welled up with tears.

Jaime joined the three at the counter. “What did you call her?” Hockey-Jersey backed up his friend. “A bitch who doesn’t know how to take a fucking order.” Jamal and Alex now piled behind the other four.

“If you are going to talk to our employees like that, sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” warned Alina.

  “I’m not going anywhere until we get our food,” Buzz-Cut replied. “And this soda is all watered down so get me a refill too.”

“Sure,” Alina said, extending her hand to take the cup. But Buzz-Cut removed the lid and poured it’s contents out onto Alina’s head. She stood in shock as the bright orange liquid dripped down her face and neck soaking her shirt. Buzz-Cut grinned malevolently.

All eight people stood in dead silence.

Then Alex lunged over the counter tackling Buzz-Cut. Tom jumped over next and hit Hockey-Jersey in the jaw, but he easily had one hundred pounds on Tom so the blow was underwhelming. Hockey Jersey swung back hitting Tom in the gut which put him swiftly to the ground.

The Alex/Buzz-Cut fight looked less like a boxing match and more like a bear being attacked by a rabid wolverine—Alex gouged eyes, clawed, and eventually bit down hard into Buzz-Cut’s right forearm. Buzz-Cut bellowed, kneeing him savagely in the groin, but despite the scorching pain Alex kept his jaws locked onto the limb.

Jaime saw Tom was in trouble and looked frantically around for a weapon. The best he could find was the small heater used to keep cinnamon twists warm, so he ripped it free from it’s wiring and flung it at Hockey-Jersey. It made a glancing blow into the side of his neck, causing Hockey Jersey to scream in pain (and sending cinnamon twists flying in every direction.) Jaime jumped the counter following the projectile and reigned blows on Hockey-Jersey giving Tom a chance to get up.

Jamal—the only employee physically matched for either of the two men—rushed to help Alex who was badly losing his fight. He pried Alex off of Buzz-Cut (with a string of blood and saliva trailing him) and got the giant in a headlock. Buzz-Cut’s legs flailed wildly, kicking into the pile of six arms and six legs that was the Hockey-Jersey/Tom/Jaime battle. Stuart the manager finally showed up to find Kenisha crying, Alina on the phone with the police, and the six men in the lobby thrashing on the floor in a tangled mess.

11:00 AM, the next day

The six sat scattered around the dining room of the vacant restaurant. The left side of Alex’s face was a gruesome shade of black and green. Tom’s arm was in a cast which Kenisha was idly picking at. Jaime, who’s lip was split, was looking down at his phone watching YouTube. The video was titled “Taco Bell MASSACRE!!!!” —it was a replay of last night's events taken from a customer’s cell phone. “Yo this shit is crazy,” the cameraman says to his friend. “I just came to get a chalupa but this is better than MMA!” Jaime laughed, then winced as his smile caused his lip to start bleeding again.

Stuart stood in front of the group looking disappointed. “In my 17 years of restaurant management I’ve never seen anything so shameful. I trusted you to stay calm and act like adults.”

“Some of us aren’t adults,” objected Kenisha. Stuart pursed his lips and let out a sigh. “Be that as it may, I expected better from you. It was my preference to fire everyone involved in the altercation, but corporate says we can’t afford to have that many people gone at the same time. Jaime, one of the men is filing charges for the toaster oven you threw at him, so we are going to have to let you go.”

“Sure, whatever” Jaime sighs.

“Now we have a lot to do today,” Stuart continued,  “starting with cleaning up all of this…” he turned toward the counter; the entire space was a mess of spilled soda, broken cinnamon twists, and dried blood.  “So let’s get to it.”

Groggily the group stirred. Jaime looked back down to his phone—underneath the video it read ‘views: 3.8 million’. He smiled and slid the phone into his pocket.

Jamal slaps Jaime’s hand and puts his arm on his shoulder. “We’re gonna miss you, man. Don’t worry, this was a crappy job anyway, you’re better off without it.”

“Yeah I’ll be fine.”

Alina gave him a big hug. “See yah later bud!” The rest of the crew said goodbye and Jaime headed for the door, but Tom came back to grab him with his good arm. “Hey I almost forgot—I talked to my uncle about that job at his dealership. They already filled it, but he actually saw the video of last night and said he liked the way you stood up for Alina. Just go over to the lot sometime and he’ll see if he can find something for you.”

“Wow, thanks Tom. Seriously.”

“No problem, I’ll see you around.”

Tom rejoined the others at the mess and picked up a mop. Jaime looked back at the group—he wouldn’t miss the job but he would miss everyone (except Stuart.) If he was honest with himself he was a little scared to leave.

Then he turned and walked out.

9:52 AM

“You know why I don’t have a girlfriend? Because girls don’t understand me,” Alex declared to his cousin Alina. He paused, waiting for her to react, so she took the bait: “What don’t they understand?”

“Like girls want a guy that will call them every night, but I’m not like that. I’m unpredictable! PASSIONATE!” He shouted the last word and it echoed down the empty street. Alex could see that Alina wasn’t convinced so he elaborated.

“I mean, I may not always be around, but when I am it’s like—POW!!” The two of them walked together to their job at Taco Bell most days. It was more than a mile across town but neither of them had a car and the buses made it slower than walking.

“That’s what happened with me and Camilla, she couldn’t handle me, I was too intense.”

“I heard she caught you getting a blowjob from Shauntelle in the school bathroom?”

“That wasn’t it!” An old Buick rattled down the road past them. Alina checked her phone—they were going to be late again. She hated being late.

“OK, that happened,” Alex confessed, “but that’s not the reason Camila dumped me.”

“I KNEW it!” She slugged him hard in the arm and he recoiled with a growl. Alina was a year older than Alex, and growing up they hung out so often they felt more like siblings than cousins. She had gotten him the job six months ago and he was grateful, but he didn’t have a way to show her. Alina always had her life so together that it didn’t seem like he could ever do anything for her.

They crossed Lincoln Street and as they rounded the corner the downtown came into view. “This is my favorite part of the walk,” said Alina. “The river, the cathedral…” It makes my world seem less small, she thought but didn’t say.

“Yeah I don’t know why anyone would ever want to leave Philadelphia, it has everything.”

When they reached the restaurant Alina checked her phone again. “We’re a few minutes late so if the manager gives you any trouble just say it was my fault. Say....I had really bad cramps; guys don’t understand that stuff anyway.”

1:15 PM

“Where are we gonna eat?” asks Kenisha. Tom waited a moment because he knew that she was just thinking out loud, she already had a place in mind. “How about Cosmo’s?”

Kenisha pulled him into the deli and flounced up to the counter. The muscly guy in a tight white shirt working looked Kenisha up and down—a little too thoroughly for Tom’s liking.

“Hey there,” the muscly guy asked, directed only to her.

“Hi!” Kenisha chirps with a broad smile.

“What can I get ya?”

“We’re ordering together,” interjects Tom awkwardly.

“Yeah we're gonna share—can we just get one regular cheesesteak cut in half? Thanks!”

Tom always worried that Kenisha was too good-looking for him. They dated their freshman and sophomore years of high school and she never cheated on him (that he knew of) but he was always a little insecure. Maybe if he was taller, or had a cooler car.

They sat down to wait for their order. Cosmo’s was fast which was good because their manager only gave them half an hour for a lunch break. Food at work was half-priced but there were only so many burritos you could eat in a week.

“You’re grumpy—what’s up?” Kenisha asks.

“You shouldn’t be so friendly with that guy.”

“Who, Rocco?”

“You know his name?”

“Yeah we come here like every other day.”

“Well, you shouldn’t smile at him so much, it’ll give him the wrong idea.”

“I was just being nice—SHEESH.” This was a lie; Kenisha had been flirting with Rocco for months. She wasn’t planning on doing anything about it—she never did—but for being so faithful she felt she deserved to at least talk to other guys. She decided to change the subject.

“What are we doing this weekend?”

“I dunno, a movie?”

“We always go to the movie theater, I want to get out and DO something! Let’s go dancing at a club!”

“We’re not 21 so we can’t get into any clubs.”

“I know somewhere that doesn’t card. It’s called...B-Side!”

“Let me think about it.”

“Come on don’t be such a wet blanket!” She threw a potato chip at him playfully.

“Alright we’ll go,” Tom acquiesced.

“EEEK! Yay! I need to get a new dress…”

6:15 PM

“You know what I need? A time machine,” proclaimed Jaime. Jamal looks at him puzzled. “A what?”

“A time machine. You know like in Back to the Future.”

“Why do you need that?”

“I always try to make the right call, but I don’t know what the right call was until after I make it and see how everything turns out.” The dinner rush was starting to pick up and the restaurant was getting noisier—friers beeped urgently and people shouted in Spanish. Jamal and Jaime sat in the back booth like they usually did on their break.

“What would you change?” Jamal asked.

“Like last week when I missed that job interview; I thought taking the subway would be better than driving, you know, so I wouldn’t get stuck in traffic on the 76.”

“Yeah the 76 is the worst.”

“Right! But while I was on the subway going to the interview there was a bomb threat and the entire line got shut down for two hours.”

“Man what are the odds…”

“That’s my point! On any other day taking the subway would have been a safer bet, but not that day.”

“So if you had a time machine and you went back and told yourself to drive instead, you wouldn’t have missed the interview.”

“EXACTLY!”

Jamal thought about this for a moment. “But if you didn’t get stuck in the subway, then you wouldn’t have gone back in time to tell yourself to drive instead.” Jaime looked blankly at Jamal. “Why do you always have to shoot down my ideas?” He took a big slurp of his soda.

“So what happened at the interview? They wouldn’t let you come in later?”

“Naw.”

“Those jerks.”

“Maybe this place is fine for now.” Jamal hated when his friend talked this way. Jaime was the smartest person he knew, so working at a fast food place was not where he should be. What he really needed to do was quit so he wouldn’t have any other choice but to move on.

“There are a lot of other things you cou…” before he could finish, Alina poked her head out of the back and said, “hey guys we are starting to get slammed can you jump back on?”

“I thought you could do everything yourself?” Jamal quipped.

“I can, I just like having people to order around.”

8:50 PM

The loosely controlled chaos of the Taco Bell kitchen was gradually spinning out of control. No one catastrophe had derailed the continuous hand-offs of tortillas and beans, but each interaction became slightly less smooth than the one before.

“Where are those grande burritos Jaime?” demanded Alina.

“Hey I’m waiting on the ground beef,” Jaime responded defensively. “Maybe if Kenisha had that covered we’d be caught up.”

“Where is she?” Alina asked. Jamal piped up, “probably on an Instagram break.” Alex jumped on this, “yeah she might need to see a doctor, her phone is stuck to her hand.”

“At least I have people to message on Instagram,” Kenisha retorted as she walked back into the kitchen. Everyone burst into laughter. “Hey I have plenty of…” Alex tried to defend himself but half-way through his thought he slipped on some sour cream and went toppling to the floor. This only amplified the laughter and he knew he was temporarily defeated.

“What the hell is going on back here?!” Stuart the manager interrogated, charging in. Balding, overweight, he always took his job a little too seriously and got upset when everyone else didn’t. The room got quiet and everyone looked instinctively to Alina—as the Assistant Manager (and unofficial surrogate mother to this gang of misfits) they expected her to take responsibility. She always did, but she resented them a little for it.

“Sorry we’ll clean it up!” Alina assured him.

“Good,” he replied, storming out. Jaime helped Alex off of the slimy floor as the rest of the group sheepishly got back to work, avoiding eye contact with Alina.

“Hey Tom,” said Jamal.

  “Yeah?”

“Were you able to talk to your uncle about the job at his car dealership?

“They still need someone. I’d do it but you have to be 18...you interested?”

“It’s not for me, it’s for Jaime. Do you think you can get him an interview?”

“Sure—Jaime’s a great guy.”

“Thanks man, I think he would really appreciate it.” Jamal and Jaime were childhood best friends, but in high school Jamal made the basketball team and Jaime didn’t, and after that things were never quite the same: Jamal was ushered into the in crowd which left Jaime behind. He always felt guilty about this. They started hanging out again after graduation and Jaime was grateful to have him around… but Jamal still felt like he owed him something. The job at the dealership was just running the front desk, but he knew Jaime liked cars, so he thought it would be a good way for him to get a fresh start.

“I’ll text him about it tomorrow,” assured Tom.

10:52  PM

“Where’s my order?!” An angry 6-foot-6 man with a buzz-cut demanded of Kenisha who was hopelessly overwhelmed at the register. “Which number?” she asked plaintively.

“23!” he barked back.

“Um...hold on a sec…”

“I’ve been holding on for 20 minutes, I’m getting pretty tired of that.” Kenisha juggled receipts, clearly lost. “Alina can you help me find this order?” She shouted desperately into the kitchen.

The angry customer's friend, another 6-foot-plus man in an oversized hockey jersey elbowed the first man, “making tacos must be so hard, maybe if her brain was as big as her tits she wouldn’t have so much trouble.” Buzz-Cut snickered.

Tom overheard this and jumped to the counter. “Hey don’t talk about her like that!” “Tom stay out of it,” Kenisha defended herself, her lip quivering.

“What shouldn’t I say? That she has a tiny brain? Or big tits? Cause I can see one of them from where I’m standing.”

Alina came up with a concerned look. “What’s wrong Kenisha?”

“He...he has a receipt for order 23, and I remember putting it in, but it’s not showing up in the system.” Alina gently moved Kenisha to the side and looked intently at the touch screen. “I don’t see it either, but that’s ok. We’ll just go back and make these items quickly.” Kenisha nods, curled under Tom’s arm like a baby bird under her mother’s wing. Tom glares at Hockey-Jersey.

  “I’m very sorry for the delay sir,” Alina says to Buzz-Cut. “We’ll have your order right out. Kenisha can you go make those?” She turns to head back into the kitchen when Buzz-Cut objects. “Naw if I’m going to get a burrito I want it made by a real Mexican.”

Alina gritted her teeth and in the most professional voice she could manage replied, “I assure you any of us can make your order. Tom, give her a hand so we can get everything together as quickly as possible.” 

“No I don’t want THAT bitch to do it, I want YOU to do it!” The volume of the conversation had been steadily increasing but this last insult reached the entire restaurant. The other customers peered around with curiosity. Kenisha’s eyes welled up with tears.

Jaime joined the three at the counter. “What did you call her?” Hockey-Jersey backed up his friend. “A bitch who doesn’t know how to take a fucking order.” Jamal and Alex now piled behind the other four.

“If you are going to talk to our employees like that, sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” warned Alina.

  “I’m not going anywhere until we get our food,” Buzz-Cut replied. “And this soda is all watered down so get me a refill too.”

“Sure,” Alina said, extending her hand to take the cup. But Buzz-Cut removed the lid and poured it’s contents out onto Alina’s head. She stood in shock as the bright orange liquid dripped down her face and neck soaking her shirt. Buzz-Cut grinned malevolently.

All eight people stood in dead silence.

Then Alex lunged over the counter tackling Buzz-Cut. Tom jumped over next and hit Hockey-Jersey in the jaw, but he easily had one hundred pounds on Tom so the blow was underwhelming. Hockey Jersey swung back hitting Tom in the gut which put him swiftly to the ground.

The Alex/Buzz-Cut fight looked less like a boxing match and more like a bear being attacked by a rabid wolverine—Alex gouged eyes, clawed, and eventually bit down hard into Buzz-Cut’s right forearm. Buzz-Cut bellowed, kneeing him savagely in the groin, but despite the scorching pain Alex kept his jaws locked onto the limb.

Jaime saw Tom was in trouble and looked frantically around for a weapon. The best he could find was the small heater used to keep cinnamon twists warm, so he ripped it free from it’s wiring and flung it at Hockey-Jersey. It made a glancing blow into the side of his neck, causing Hockey Jersey to scream in pain (and sending cinnamon twists flying in every direction.) Jaime jumped the counter following the projectile and reigned blows on Hockey-Jersey giving Tom a chance to get up.

Jamal—the only employee physically matched for either of the two men—rushed to help Alex who was badly losing his fight. He pried Alex off of Buzz-Cut (with a string of blood and saliva trailing him) and got the giant in a headlock. Buzz-Cut’s legs flailed wildly, kicking into the pile of six arms and six legs that was the Hockey-Jersey/Tom/Jaime battle. Stuart the manager finally showed up to find Kenisha crying, Alina on the phone with the police, and the six men in the lobby thrashing on the floor in a tangled mess.

11:00 AM, the next day

The six sat scattered around the dining room of the vacant restaurant. The left side of Alex’s face was a gruesome shade of black and green. Tom’s arm was in a cast which Kenisha was idly picking at. Jaime, who’s lip was split, was looking down at his phone watching YouTube. The video was titled “Taco Bell MASSACRE!!!!” —it was a replay of last night's events taken from a customer’s cell phone. “Yo this shit is crazy,” the cameraman says to his friend. “I just came to get a chalupa but this is better than MMA!” Jaime laughed, then winced as his smile caused his lip to start bleeding again.

Stuart stood in front of the group looking disappointed. “In my 17 years of restaurant management I’ve never seen anything so shameful. I trusted you to stay calm and act like adults.”

“Some of us aren’t adults,” objected Kenisha. Stuart pursed his lips and let out a sigh. “Be that as it may, I expected better from you. It was my preference to fire everyone involved in the altercation, but corporate says we can’t afford to have that many people gone at the same time. Jaime, one of the men is filing charges for the toaster oven you threw at him, so we are going to have to let you go.”

“Sure, whatever” Jaime sighs.

“Now we have a lot to do today,” Stuart continued,  “starting with cleaning up all of this…” he turned toward the counter; the entire space was a mess of spilled soda, broken cinnamon twists, and dried blood.  “So let’s get to it.”

Groggily the group stirred. Jaime looked back down to his phone—underneath the video it read ‘views: 3.8 million’. He smiled and slid the phone into his pocket.

Jamal slaps Jaime’s hand and puts his arm on his shoulder. “We’re gonna miss you, man. Don’t worry, this was a crappy job anyway, you’re better off without it.”

“Yeah I’ll be fine.”

Alina gave him a big hug. “See yah later bud!” The rest of the crew said goodbye and Jaime headed for the door, but Tom came back to grab him with his good arm. “Hey I almost forgot—I talked to my uncle about that job at his dealership. They already filled it, but he actually saw the video of last night and said he liked the way you stood up for Alina. Just go over to the lot sometime and he’ll see if he can find something for you.”

“Wow, thanks Tom. Seriously.”

“No problem, I’ll see you around.”

Tom rejoined the others at the mess and picked up a mop. Jaime looked back at the group—he wouldn’t miss the job but he would miss everyone (except Stuart.) If he was honest with himself he was a little scared to leave.

Then he turned and walked out.