American Chinese Chicken
Applejack approached the restaurant, its white metal sheet walls bounced off applejacks eyes, making her blink rapidly and shield herself from the light. The neon lights of sign flickered and said “American Chinese Food” such a vague name, applejack thought. She strode through the door, an asian lady wearing work clothes, and holding a brown board with a paper labeled ‘guest list’ greeted her with a friendly smile on her face. “Welcome to American Chinese!” she said happily, “How many?” applejack looked at her, how many did she think was there? Applejack sighed at the asian woman’s stupidity “One” she replied, the waitress wrote down the number, “Forrow me please.” She said. Applejack followed her down to a large booth that held a maximum of eight people, great applejack thought, one person needing an eight booth when there are four booths, and two people tables scattered throughout the restaurant. The asian women said “What would you rike to drink?” applejack though it through and said plainly “Water please”, “ok, be right back” the asian women went through a hallway which probably lead to where the chefs cooked, and the soda dispensers were at, though she didn’t get soda. Applejack couldn’t help but become irritated with the Asians, there speech replacing R with L frequently frustrated her to a point where she could not help it. The waitress returned and set her glass of water on the table, “Are you ready to order?” she asked applejack, applejack looked down and had forgotten about the menu the waitress had placed on her table when she asked for her drinks, “I-“ she started “What is on the specials for today?”, “Well…” We have the American Chinese Chicken stir fry.” applejack was hungry for anything so she responded “Ok.” The waitress smiled, wrote down the order, said thank you, and rushed off to give the order to the chef.
Applejack looked up and a slightly obese man with ginger sideburns approached her. “Oh my gerd, Applejack! I am like… Your biggest fan!” he let out a fangirl shriek and applejack chuckled. “Will you please, please sign my shirt?” the brony asked her, she sighed “Ok” she took the permanent marker from the guy and wrote her name in cursive on his shirt right under her left hoof, he was wearing an applejack shirt that said “yup” under her. The brony smiled, applejack could tell that he was nervous “Have a wonderful evening” applejack said “I will, thanks really!” the man said, he scuttled back to his group of fellow bronies who were wearing shirts of the other mane six ponies. Applejack sighed, ever since equestria was somehow teleported to earth through another dimension, bronyism drastically increased, and tourism was a high dollar industry in equestrian. Scientists asked to research celestia for immortality, and she agreed. The mane six however, got the really annoying people called bronies that would not shut up if their lives depended on it about ponies, fanfictions, and the show that was supposedly made three years before they arrived here, coincidence, applejack thought not. Applejack lifted her glass to her mouth and chugged down the water, the water had a funny taste, she ignored it and finished the drink, letting out a large, death defying burp after she finished.
The waitress came back bearing a hotplate, the smell of the food whisked across applejacks nose, it smelt delicious. When she set the hotplate down however… The food she had ordered was not how it was right here. The chicken for started was undercooked, blood mixed with the juice of the vegetables, and the chicken was still partially cold. The vegetables on the other hand were old, the peppers and onions wrinkles up and were a dark brown, and hard pieces of mold and applejack might of even spotted a maggot feasting on the veggies. The waitress asked if she wanted another glass of water, she quickly agreed, the odd tasting water would have to help her conquer her twelve dollar buffet of fold and undercooked chicken. Applejack prodded a piece of chicken with some old onions and rotting green peppers, she edged the fork toward her mouth and clamped down on the food. She chewed the squishy disgusting food and gagged the stomach acids in her body and her leftovers from yesterday were starting to climb toward the front of her throat, and escape. Quickly she got up and rushed toward the bathroom, slamming into the waitress who was coming back with the waitress who was carrying the glass of water, fell over and shattered the glass, flooding the floor with nasty water. Applejack slammed open the wooden door and rushed into the stall, her face peered over the toilet and the contents inside her mouth slithered into the toilet bowl. Once, twice, thrice she threw up, gagging more and coughing more each and every time she tried to hold it in. How could a place that served such nasty food still be open? She reminded herself that later she needed to call the restaurant inspector and get this place checked out, and eventually closed; no one should have to live through eating this horrid food like she did. Applejack grabbed a few squares of toilet paper and wiped the puke smudges of her lips and cheek, and left the bathroom and back to the table. The waitress came back, her face was clear with irritation, “I am so, so sorry.” Applejack pleaded, “It is alright dear.” The asian woman said, quickly shifting her mood from ready to kill someone, to happy.
Applejack paid the twelve dollars and fifty cents the meal cost, leaving the waitress a small nickel she found at the bottom of her pocket of which was covered with lint and dust. Applejack was walking down the roar when her stomach began to rumble again, she bent over and the contents of the meal flew out of her mouth and onto the sidewalk. Applejack was shocked as the meal began to shake and twitch; the chicken formed a smack body using the peppers as support and waddled off into the distant sun. She looked down and then back at her dinner waddling around a corner, a car tire ran over the living food, the food laid squashed on the ground, twitching. Applejack laughed, it didn’t surprise her that the food came to live, she knew now what the wriggling and movement in her stomach she felt was.