Hank J. Wimbleton shot down a bunch of AAHW agents and grunts down. His hands clench the ax in one of his hands. A pistol on the other as he shot down a solid ten men down. This was a normal Tuesday for Hank… his red goggles staring down at the soul of his enemies. An angry rage had come on his face as he felt frustration.

He was looking for a place. A very important place. One that had the best treasures anyone has ever made. One that soothes your stomach and pleasures your tongue. Something that could be found anywhere but is a rarity in the hellhole of Nevada.

A grunt was next to him. His body shook as he stared at Hank's eyes. Hank slowly walked over to the grunt. His feet slowly sent more trembles through the Grunts' soul as Hank approached him. 

Hank's gigantic hands reached over and grabbed the Grunt by the shoulders. The Grunt shouted out in fear as Hank's grip tightened around him as he stared into the Grunt's eyes.

“WHERE IS IT?!” Yelled Hank.

“Wha- what?” The Grunt asked, his face filled with more concern as he tried and failed to get out of Hank’s grasp. “Where's what? Another AAHW base?”

“No, you IMBECILE!” Hank yelled. “WHERE IS THE PIZZA HUT?!”

The Grunt just narrowed his eyes and looked confused. His fear was now gone as he slowly turned his confused mind to look at the tall mercenary.

“Where is the freaking what?!” He asked. “I thought you were going to ask for like top secret documents or something! But really? God damn pizza hut? Are you so desperate for food that you're willing to kill someone for it?”

“Yes…” Hank muttered as he bitch-slapped the Grunt with his big hand. “I want to know where it is…”

The Grunt sighed and then told Hank everything he needed to know about going to the pizza hut. Hank nodded, thanked the grunt, and walked without another word. Which only confused the Grunt even more.

But Hank knew what he was doing. Hell, he knew it better than anyone would expect. He didn't just come to the pizza hut for just the pizza. But he also seeks one of their employees. One… vital employee indeed…

–

I work at a Pizza Hut in some old barren desert in Nevada. The job can be considered extremely slow, to be honest. Barely anyone visits here. We'll probably get a single person visiting once every five hours. And probably ten people a week. All asking for the fries we serve for some reason. I didn't know why the fuck would a pizza place serve fries let alone them being popular. But here we are I suppose.

This lack of busy business meant that there were usually three to five employees at the time, including the manager. Who all clean, make the pizza and food. As well as taking out the limited trash we have. Finding something to do when we don't get customers is a bigger task than fighting Cerberus without weapons. And sometimes it's to the point where the manager himself God damn closes. Yep, I can't believe that whatsoever. 

Hell, there wasn't even that much competition around here. There were no pizza places around here besides this one… The only real competition we have for starving people who can't cook at a time is the Hot Dog Vendor who sold glizzlies for one dollar.

I'm surprised that the larger company thought it was a good idea to have a pizza hut location in the middle of fucking nowhere. Especially in the state of Nevada, where people come to die, go insane, or both. But I'm not them. I'm just a guy who has to buy food and pay bills. I don't really try to question it.

Sometimes though… Every once a month, we get an ass load of customers that go into the restaurant and buy a bunch of things. Sometimes, they looked like normal guys; sometimes, they looked like agents. Hell, I even saw a zombie clown once. He was as annoying as a Taylor Swift song or the types of people who ordered Hawaiian pizza.

And these are strange… Random people, I'll tell you. It's pretty fucking weird. One time I saw a couple of people do a damn satanic cult ritual all over Weezer. Another time I saw a guy who died multiple times… Yet was still alive somehow for some reason.

But there was this one event. One time that everything went to shit. One where all the worst things happened. And this is the one I'm going to document here. Because 1. The Auditor may want my balls and 2. The AAHW now fucking hates Pizza Hut. So let me start this tale off for real.

–

It was a Friday night; I was standing at the front table with my boss and manager, Jebediah Christoff. He was literally Jesus, he had the God damn crown and everything. He's also a hard ass but forgiving. And this wasn't different.

“Well,” Jeb said with a smile as he stared at all the customers.

An ass load of action was going on. A bunch of the agents were eating pizza, wings, and cheese sticks. A bunch of money was shoved in the damn cash register. And business was booming. It made me smile a little bit.

Hell, even Deimos and Sanford were at the corner. Eating some pizza as they awkwardly stared at everyone. 

“Man! This is better than that one time I watched gross amounts of gay Deimos henta-”

“SAY. One more word. And you're FIRED!” Jeb said bluntly. As I heard Deimos look at me with a confused expression. “This has been the best day of business since that 9/11 anniversary last year! I don't want to mess it up because you were weird and gay!”

“Oh uhh,” I scratched my head and nodded. Feeling a little disappointed in the fact that I was probably not going to get any love or attention anymore… “Sorry boss,”

“It's ok,” Was all Jeb said. “You go and take care of the rest of it for me. I need to talk to the regional manager for one of our ‘daily meetings’ or whatever. I don't know why but I have to,”

I just nodded and let him walk away. I was fully prepared to just go full “LET'S DO THIS” mood as I nervously tapped the table. Waiting for any sore loser to get in here and eat the greasy yet tasty slop we serve. But… It turned out to be normal. Too weird in an instant.

To start, the agents had various pistols and submachine guns all hidden under the tables as they ate their pizza and chicken wings. Their red sunglasses staring at me… then at the two mercenaries on the other side of the damn Pizza Hut.

Deimos clenched some M4 A1 and didn't even bother hiding the rifle. He just slowly aimed it at the agents who looked at him. Sanford decided to go full slasher and had a hook connected to a chain. Slowly fidgeting with it in a way that would make me piss myself if I drank too much water. Their looks were filled with anger while they looked at their AAHW adversaries.

During this standoff, I cleaned the counter and thought about what I should do regarding this situation. After a while, I just decided to bite the bullet and say it.

“Hey!” I yelled and I got all of their attention. The AAHW guys, Sanford and Deimos, as well as the random grunt smoking a joint who just went in. “I don't think you should be carrying weapons here! It's a Pizza Hut, not a military base! Also, you shouldn't be smoking weed in a restaurant either!”

“Yeah?” One of the AAHW agents asked. “Why should I care?”

“It's because I can call the manager right now-”

“Who gives a shit about the manager!” Deimos shouted out. “I'm friends with your manager dude! It won't work!”

“Yeah but-”

“Oh, come on, bro! It's April 20th!” Shouted the random Grunt. “Why can't I smoke some damn weed!”

“Dude, why can't y'all be normal?” I asked all of them as I slammed my hands on the ground. “It's a pizza hut! Can't you guys-”

My stupid speech about how violence is pointless and that Pizza Hut should be a place of peace was interrupted by a sudden shootout. The agents began flipping tables and opening fire. Gunfire came out from both sides. Deimos and Sanford shot back with the guns they had. My ears almost busted as I then heard shouts of rage and anger for some reason.

“JESUS CHRIST WHY!?” That was all I said as I looked at the carnage going on at my poor Pizza Hut. I looked around. Seeing a bunch of agents getting shot in the head. Some of the bullets hit the ground and walls. I shrieked when some of them hit the counter. “WHY CAN'T Y'ALL BE NORMAL?!”

They just ignored me while food and drink were all over the floor combined with dark red blood. I frowned and stood still. Not knowing what to do. My hands shake every time I hear Sanford blast someone with a revolver. 

“Eat this LEAD SUCKERS!” Shouted Deimos.

Sanford then just dropped the gun and grabbed his hook fully. Then he began to twirl his chain like a flail and ran towards the agents with the damn thing. Killing a solid bunch of them with his weapon.

I just tried to act all normal still though. Despite the madness, I was witnessing real-time. I tried thinking about something else. Luckily by this point, Jeb was already done with his meeting and walked out. Only to stare at the madness in front of him. I looked up at him for guidance. But before I said anything, he just shook his head.

“It's gonna end soon,” He said. “Trust me on that,”

He then walked out to his office without another word. Leaving me all by myself… With people having a shootout in the middle of a damn shootout.

I shook my head and stared at the carnage. But jumped out of my spot as I stared at something different from the shootouts and Sanford slaughtering someone.

There stood a fat dude. Who looked extremely ghetto for no reason. He wore a fedora, glasses, and some damn green button-up shirt. He looked like some damn gangster from California for all I knew. And this dude was definitely going to be a pain in my ass for a solid second. I just didn't know yet.

“Oh uhh,” I cleared my throat as I looked at him. A nervous smile on my face as I looked at the gangster. “Welcome to Pizza Hut! How may I help you today sir?”

The man took an extremely awkward minute to look at our menu. He rubbed his chin and thought for a minute. He then… made the worst order… I've ever seen from a damn customer 

“I'll, I'll, I'll have,” He paused for a very awkward five minutes… He then just shook his head and then told me his order. “Two number 9s, number 9 large. Number 6, with extra dip. Number 7, extra d-7

“Two 45s, one 40 cheese, Extra extra large cheese soda. Number 9 dip, extra 6. 45 cheese, 69 aaah, 7-Eleven, and a large soda.”

I stared at him… for five minutes. Trying to understand what ABSOLUTELY IDIOTIC GARBAGE HE SAID. I then just narrowed my eyes.

“What?” I asked.

“Yo man I just said my order,” the Ghetto dude said. “What's so weird about it?”

“You just said a bunch of numbers with mentions of soda and cheese,” I said. “I don't understand what you're asking me to get you, can you be specific?”

“Are you a dumbass?” He asked.

“Sir, that's rude and I don't feel comfortable with that amount of disrespect,”

“THAT'S IT FOOL! IMMA CALL MY GROVE STREET HOMIES AND-”

And then everything became even more chaotic. Because as soon as Big Smoke tried to say something. Someone broke down the door.

–

A tall masked man. Wearing red goggles and carrying an automatic rifle, he came in with a deadpan glare as he looked at the chaos. The agents stopped, and I whimpered in an utter sense of depression. And the gangster man just turned his head to look at the new guy.

This tall man had a name, and I knew this guy… And I knew his presence wasn't that good. Despite that… I weirdly felt happy to see him.

This man was Hank J. Wimbleton. Cold-hearted and dangerous. Well known for being into bloody murder and being the pain in the ass for AAHW. Yet, for some reason, I thought he was a very nice person. He was somewhat soft to me at least.

The agents paused, the remaining few of them stopped what the hell they were doing and looked at the mercenary in front of them. All of them worried for no reason at all. And as soon as Deimos chuckled. Hank pulled the trigger.

A couple of short bursts came out of his rifle, and the remaining agent's body was still being shot. Bodies dropped to the floor like a stack of potatoes as he pulled the trigger. The agents tried to attack. They tried to do something. But they couldn't. They only just got killed by the three of the mercs while me and the gangster just stared at them.

All three of them were covered in blood. Deimos and Sanford went back to eating their food. Meanwhile, Hank just walked up to the counter. Pulled out a knife and then began to stab the shit out of the gangster guy. Who tried to fight back with a pistol to no avail… Blood stained the counter again for some reason and I just sighed.

“Welcome to the best Pizza Hut in Nevada,” I said, rolling my eyes as I looked at him. For some reason, his weird, soulless stare looked way softer when it was on me… So I stared at him with a little frown after a couple of minutes of him not saying anything. “Uhh, sir?”

Hank just reached out with a gigantic hand and slowly grabbed my hand to hold. His grip was soft yet rough as I looked at me. I noticed that his face was completely red and nervous. Like he wanted to kiss me or something…

“I just want a pizza…” he whispered, slowly rubbing my hand with his thumb. “For two~”

“A what now?” I asked.

Jeb then kicked down his door and brought out… a pizza for two on his hands.

“Oh don't worry [Name], I got-” He gasped and stared at Hank with nothing but hatred. “OH GOD NO! NOT YOU! WHY IN THE ACTUAL KENTUCKY FRIED FUCK AT POPEYES ARE YOU DOING HERE?! I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO GET OUT!”

Hank rolled his eyes, giving my hand another squeeze. I just blushed like an idiot and then stared at Jeb.

“Come on man,” he muttered as he looked at me. “I just wanted to see my favorite guy… What's so wrong with that?”

“You pissed ALL OVER THIS PIZZA HUT!” Jeb said. “And that's not including all the wack-ass murders you've committed! Get the fuck out of my restaurant or I'm calling the Auditor to ra-”

“Shut up! I was going to leave anyway,” Hank yelled back with a certain anger under his breath. “Can I just take the pizza and this guy and leave?”

“Wait what?” Shouted Deimos.

Jeb just grabbed his forehead and groaned.

“Take the pizza and [Name]! I don't care! I don't even care if you didn't pay! Just DON'T COME INTO MY PIZZA HUT EVER AGAIN! YOU ARE BANNED FOR A REASON HANK!”

“Talk about a temper!” Sanford muttered.

“BOSS HOLD UP WHAT-”

“I'll pay you for your time off!” Jeb shouted. “You two just FREAKING GO! NOW!”

Hank didn't need to be told twice. He was already dashing out with a pizza and me in his hands. I had no real reaction to this. This felt like an average Tuesday for me anyway. I wasn't going to be shocked that Hank J. freaking Wimbleton kidnapped me. Honestly, I didn't care either. It felt nice… Really nice.

But… that's not the end of this story. Because there's more… eventful stuff happening after.

-

Hank brought me into a crappy abandoned warehouse that smelled like piss. He sat down and ate all the pizza he could have. Meanwhile, I only took a solid two slices from such. I felt extremely hungry. And our food is so good despite being unhealthy.

I was in Hank's lap. Feeling extremely tired as I curled up against him. Despite being a complete murderer. He was a very comforting guy. I didn't feel scared or anything. He just scratched my head and sighed. Making pleased sounds as I looked up at him.

“Did you really just come into that Pizza Hut to get me?” I asked in a tired tone. “I thought you wouldn't do stuff like that,”

Hank just chuckled and then managed to scoop me up in his arms. Cradling me on his lap. He felt extremely warm and soft… Yet rough and comforting at the same time. I only blushed and hugged him back. Letting the warmth absorb me.

“I just had to…” Hank said as he looked at me and rested his chin on the top of my head. Everything felt slow as this gigantic angy masked dude squeezed me a little bit and kind of cradled me. “I mean… you are my favorite Pizza Hut employee.”

“WHAT-”

I almost yelled. But I just… closed my eyes and then fell asleep for some reason. The extremely long day and madness made me so tired that I passed out. So yeah…

I then woke up in some room. Hank is still holding me like a baby for some odd reason. I didn't move for a solid second. I just buried my face into his chest and tried to sleep yet again.

The End.