Onion Rings

By Rebecca C. Levin

Axel stood lazily at the Burger King counter, watching the clock. There were only ten more minutes left in his shift. It didn’t make too much of a difference, though.
What a stupid place to build a Burger King. Axel thought. No one ever comes here anyway.
He was, for the most part, correct, because this particular Burger King was located in the Midgewater Marshes, the murkiest place in all of Middle Earth…well, at least Axel thought so. The Mirkwood in the east and the Dead Marshes in the southeast came pretty close.
But the Mirkwood had elves and spiders and all sorts of things crawling around in it. They all needed a Whopper eventually! Why couldn’t a Burger King be built there? It turned out that there already was a Burger King in the Mirkwood. And the Dead Marshes? Well, it was full of dead people…maybe the cold soda kept them frozen…but other than that, Axel didn’t really understand why a Burger King was there.
So there stood our young worker, gazing with droopy eyes at the clock, counting away the seconds that were left of his seemingly pointless shift.
Axel wasn’t the only one working at Burger King that day. His friend, Ilze MacDonahue Mohan (from the kingdom of Rohan) was there too. She, however, had found a way to keep her boredom from killing her–maybe.
She danced around the empty tables with a bucket on her head, a mop in one hand, and a spatula in the other. Her pink shirt from the Gap of Rohan glowed brightly. She raced around madly, knocking down stacks of cups that she’d put on every table.
“Die, Uruk!” she screamed valiantly. “Never again shall you see the light of day! Muahahahaha!” She then turned to the mop and cried, “Don’t worry, Faramir! I’ll save you!”
“You know,” said Axel, “I’m pretty sure he’d be able to save himself.”
Ilze stopped and looked at him. “Yea, he probably would, but that’s not the point, is it?” She continued knocking down the paper orcs.
Axel rolled his eyes. He had to admit, though, Ilze had become more graceful in her table frenzies, well, at least she wasn’t careening into glass doors or the ketchup dispensers like she used to, causing poor Faramir more injuries than his rescuer.
Soon all the monstrous towers of Uruks had met their fate, and were in countless piles on the red tile floor. Ilze, with her moppy Faramir, stood triumphantly on a table.
“Victory…is…OURS!” she shouted as she threw her spatula in the air. Axel couldn’t help but laugh at his friend. It was proof that Ilze had indeed gone insane–not that she cared much.
Then–it came! Or rather, he came. The little bell on the door rang, and through the frame came a tall rugged fellow with a pained expression on his face. He was soon followed by a bustle of noise, an outcry of voices, screaming such comments as, “Are we there yet?” and “I’m huuuuuuuuuungry.”
The voices were coming from two small, hairy-footed people, with bright curly hair. They were hobbits, and both seemed very concerned with their surroundings, well, maybe not the little redheaded one who always kept saying “I’m huuuuuuuungry!” in his little Scottish accent.
The hungry little Scottish Hobbit was followed by another hobbit, but he didn’t seem as happy–or as huuuuuuuuungry–as the little Scottish one. His cute curly brown hair drooped into his tear-filled eyes. All he kept saying was, “Boo-hoo! Why do I have to have the Ring? I don’t like the Ring! Why me? Why?!”
He was obviously having issues.
Soon the little sad hobbit was quickly followed by the last hobbit–although Axel would’ve thought him to be two hobbits–at least, he was as chubby as two of them. Axel didn’t think that the extra weight would be there soon–he was sure that the fat hobbit was burning some calories while he carried all those pots and pans and kept saying, “Mister Frodo? Are you all right? Mister Frodo? Frodo?”
Axel could understand why the tall rugged fellow looked so aggravated. He looked really, really mean, though, too. Axel did all he could to make sure that he didn’t make him any more annoyed.
He glanced back up at the clock–oh no! His shift was over! This surely meant that–BAM! One second later Axel found himself on the floor. The next thing he heard was:
“Hi! I’m Ilze! Welcome to Burger King! Can I take your order?”
It was obvious to Axel that this tall rugged fellow was the cure to her overly obsessive crush on the Captain of Gondor. Unfortunately, he had become her next victim.
Axel was almost glad that he didn’t have to work the cash register and take all those orders. Who knew how long that would take? Especially with that little Scottish hobbit and that rather fat hobbit. But now he was burdened with the task of cleaning up the mounds of paper cups that lay on the ground–literally–everywhere.
The four little hobbits stood behind the rugged fellow, all staring at him with very big, sad-puppy eyes–especially the little Scottish one.
“I’m huuuuungry! Where’s my second breakfast?”
“You’ll get it!” snapped the tall rugged fellow. “Go sit down!”
Without further argument, the four little hobbits turned and found their way around the mountains of paper cups and to a table, grabbing booster seats on their way there.
Axel after sweeping the cups into one great big mountain, went over to the table. He decided that he’d help Ilze–not that she was doing very much (just ‘chatting’ with the tall rugged fellow). What exactly were those hobbits planning on eating, anyway?
The four hobbits had now found their way up onto the chairs, and were now sitting comfortably on their little red booster seats.
“Morning!” he said, uneasily. He then noticed that the sad hobbit had now stopped his crying. He was now just sitting there, staring ahead, looking at a pretty golden ring. He suddenly looked very tired.
“Um…what seems to be the problem with your friend there?” Axel asked.
“Oh, he’s just a little depressed,” said the blonde hobbit. “He really wants to wear the ring, but he can’t. He’s been sent on some impossible quest to destroy that ring before this evil guy Sauron gets it and annihilates the earth. It’s nothing too big.”
“Oh,” said Axel. “So, um…can I take your orders?”
“Sure!” said the little Scottish hobbit. “How’s about four of them ‘Whoppers,’ four of those kiddie meals, and four of those strange pint thingies you’ve got.”
“Will that be it?”
“Nope,” said the fat hobbit. “That was just his order.”
Axel could only blink at the hobbit, who had suddenly found interest in the fly that was buzzing around in the window. Where did all that food go?!
He had hoped that the other hobbits’ stomachs weren’t as big, but he soon found out that he was wrong.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” said the little blonde hobbit, who was quick to decide. “Just cut my portions in half, will ya?”
“And for me,” said the fat hobbit, “I’ll have some of them taters–on a pretty strict diet, you know.”
Axel quickly jotted their orders down, then stood patiently, waiting for the last hobbit to say what he wanted.
“Um…Mister Frodo?” said the fat hobbit. “Mister Frodo, whadooya want?”
No reply.
“Err…I guess he’ll take some of them taters too.”
Axel, with his complete list of orders, headed into the kitchen. He quickly brewed up the many food items for the little Scottish hobbit and the little blonde hobbit. He debated whether he should put the little toys in the kids’ meals, but in a last-minute decision, he decided not to. He then noticed that there were only enough french fries for only one other order. Assuming that there were extra fries in the freezer, he scooped them up and headed back out to the table.
The Scottish hobbit and the blonde hobbit were quick to take their food, and the fat hobbit gobbled up his french fries. He also quietly stole one of the Scottish hobbit’s Whoppers and began to eat it. So much for his strict diet.
“Erm…I’ll be right back with yours, sir,” said Axel to the sad hobbit, who had been looking at him with those blue sad-puppy eyes. Axel quickly returned to the kitchen. He again passed Ilze, who was still ‘chatting’ with the tall rugged fellow. He rolled his eyes.
For the next ten minutes he dug in the freezer, but was unable to find any extra bags of french fries. To his dismay, he raced back out to the fry-cooker, hoping that his eyes had been playing tricks on him–but no, he was again incorrect.
Then–he saw them–ONION RINGS! So crisp, so golden…so…greasy. Axel remembered that he had been planning on having some for his own lunch, but seeing that this situation had turned into an emergency, he grabbed them and dashed back out to the table.
The other hobbits had quickly eaten their food, and were now digging through the bottoms of the many bags for any extra fries that might be hidden there. The sad hobbit was sitting patiently, waiting for his own food.
“Here you go!” said Axel, with a smug smile on his face. He set the onion rings down in front of the hobbit. Mission accomplished.
But things were to take an evil turn. The sad hobbit sat and stared at the onion rings, shining brilliantly in the light, and suddenly became very angry. His eyes got wide, his face got red, sweat poured down his face. He even started growling.
The other hobbits stopped their searching, and their little faces went pale–they were obviously very scared. Ilze stopped talking to the tall rugged fellow, who had quickly turned his attention to the table.
“Uh-oh,” she said.
The very angry hobbit’s growls suddenly turned into screams, and he began shrieking, “Onion rings! Onion RINGS! RINGS!! GAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!” He then shot from the table, sending the booster seat flying in the air, and ran around madly, screaming, “RINGS! RINGS!! HAAAAA! IT’S MINE! ALL MINE! MY PRECIOUSSSSS! HAAAAAAAAAAAA!” The tall rugged fellow dashed from the counter and ran after the hobbit, trying to stop him, but the little hobbit in return took a broom and tried to smack him.
Ilze, seeing that her new crush was in grave danger, grabbed her spatula and leapt to his rescue.
“Don’t worry!” she cried. “I’ll save you!” She began chasing after the crazed hobbit.
Axel could only watch in horror. What had he done?
I’m gonna get fired! I’m gonna get fired!
The crazy angry hobbit had now made his way around the entire restaurant, through the kitchen, back out, and was now standing on a table, flailing the broom about in every direction. He then tossed the broom away, and took out the little gold ring that he had been staring at earlier.
“HAAA! IT’S MINE! ALL MINE!”
“Oh-no!” cried the fat hobbit. He had found a hiding place under a table with the other two hobbits, who were busy picking the gum off the bottom of it.
“–He’s gonna put it on!”
Now, Axel knew that he couldn’t put it on, and, in a last-minute decision, he made a mad dash to the table, and, in one great leap, tackled the crazy hobbit before he could put the golden ring on his finger. The little hobbit dropped the ring, and struggled ferociously to get away from Axel, but Axel didn’t let him go.
With the hobbit under his control, he let out a sigh. But then–WHACK!–and found himself tackled by Ilze.
“Ha! I’ve gotcha now!” she said, smacking the hobbit with her spatula. The tall rugged fellow soon joined them.
“Okay! OKAY!” he said. “You can stop! Frodo,” he said to the hobbit, who had stopped struggling, “Are you all right?”
Axel let go of the hobbit, who sat up. “Huh?” he said. He looked around.
“What…happened?”
“You mean…” said Ilze, who stood up, “…You don’t remember?”
“Remember what?”
“Oh…um…it was…nothing!” said Axel, who had set out to tell the truth, but had received a large jab in the ribs (courtesy of the tall rugged fellow).
“–You just slipped and fell, that’s all,” said Axel, standing up. “Ilze and I were just trying to catch you.”
Ilze nodded quickly.
“Um…okay!” said the little hobbit. He smiled.
“Well then,” said the tall rugged fellow, “I think it’s time that we get going…places to go, things to do…”
“–Not a moment’s left to waste!” said the little Scottish hobbit, who shot out from under the table. “I hear that there’s LOTS of food in that Elvish place we’re supposed to be going to!”
“Um…right,” said the tall rugged fellow. “Well, come on! Let’s go!”
He then headed out the door, and the four little hobbits followed.
“Thanks!” said the Scottish one, waving goodbye.
“No problem!” said Ilze, smiling back.
Axel waved goodbye too, but then notice the little gold ring on the floor. He quickly picked it up and ran outside to the hobbits.
“Hey!” he called to the really strange, not-so-crazy-now hobbit. “You forgot this.”
He held the ring out to the hobbit, who took it quickly.
“Um…thanks,” he said, putting it into his pocket. He turned and continued following the rest of the group. They quickly vanished into the horizon.
“Well,” said Axel. “So long!”

From that day forward, things were different at the Burger King in the Midgewater Marshes. Sure, Ilze still had her table rampages, with her bucket and spatula and mop (that had been curiously renamed ‘Strider Guy’), and Axel still watched the clock during his seemingly pointless shift–but one thing was for certain: never would he make onion rings for a strange, crazy, sad hobbit ever again.

The End.