Dick faced off against Patriarch Reliance. Sweat fell from both of their brows. This wasn’t just a Dickoff. It was a Dickoff with Dick’s reputation as a cook on the line.
The dish? The triple decker half pounder Boarseburger. Patriarch Reliance’s signature dish.
Reliance had his outer sect disciples carry his stall all the way to Dick’s place ,disrupting the line that had formed. Incidentally, the line never went away. Even after Dick closed shop for the day, the line would remain. There had even been instances where people further back in the line assassinated those at the head of the line overnight.
Bodies would litter the streets when Dick would open shop in the morning, but there was an unsaid law in the line: those who fall are removed. In just a few minutes, there were no signs of last night’s bloodbath.
Dick didn’t care. As long as the world knew the delight of his burgers, nothing else mattered.
“I never asked for this,” said Dick to Reliance.
“As Patriarch of your clan, you—”
“Hey, who’s judging this thing, anyway?” Dick said after Patriarch Reliance finished talking.
Reliance twirled his fu man chu mustache. “For this hallowed event, I have recruited… The Church of Greg.”
“NOT THE CHURCH OF GREG!” said Greg.
“Megalomaniac much?” asked Dick.
“It was my predecessor! Well, one of them. I swears! Ugh, cringepills! L.”
“What?”
“L! It’s—nevermind. Anyway, the thing you need to know about the Church of Greg is—”
“We are Greg,” said a hooded man with tattoos all over his face.
“... is that they’ve linked their minds together. Each is just a minion of the larger collective consciousness whose goal is to fund art.”
“LET THE DICKOFF COMMENCE!” Patriarch Reliance shouted for no good reason.
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Each combatant represented the epitome of their craft. Big Dick’s skill was a direct result of his [Middle Class American] boost to his [Cooking] skill, while Reliance’s was a result of hundreds of hours of effort.
Reliance opted for a more traditional approach, exquisitely balancing the taste of the [Boarse] meat with the finely aged, melted cheese. The buns he picked were perfection, and the vegetables had been harvested only that morning by his inner sect disciples.
Dick, on the other hand, did as Dick does. Deep fried meat—which, without his [Middle Class American] buff to [Cooking] would have resulted in an overdone mess of a patty. Deep fried buns. Deep fried veggies, and even deep fried cheese.
“Yours is the path of the Deep Fried Everything, isn’t it?” Greg remarked, frowning suspiciously at the result.
Despite Dick’s exotic cooking methods, the result was divine. Even with just a glance, it was obvious who would be the victor.
Skill [Cooking] has leveled up! [Cooking] lvl 53. +3881 EXP.
Congratulations! You have Number Go Up’d! Welcome to Number Go Up: 27.
The sizzling smell of deep fried meat and deep fried buns and deep fried left little to the imagination.
“We are Greg,” a Gregist (that’s what Gregists call themselves) said, before munching on Patriarch Reliance’s Triple Decker Half Pounder [Boarse]burger.
“We are Greg,” the same Gregist said, before then munching on Dick’s Triple Decker Deep Friend Half Pounder Did We Say Deep Fried? [Boarse]burger.
The Gregist dug in, and the moment he did, his eyes glazed over. For some reason, his clothes all exploded as well, leaving him naked and blushing.
“WE ARE GREG,” the Gregist shouted, running away as he covered his privates.
“And there we have it!” Greg proclaimed proudly.
“Have what? What just happened?” asked Dick.
“You won, that’s what! Gregists never shout like that. Not unless they’re proclaiming the victor of a Dickoff.”
Dick nodded with the wisdom of a thousand years. “I came. I ate. I left.”
“That another saying from your world?”
“Yeah. Italian pizza chef, called himself Little Caesars.”
“I feel like that ought to be profound, but somehow isn’t.”
“This kind of thing happen much?” Dick asked, deftly ignoring Greg’s insult.
“More often than you’d think, my friend.”
When Dick looked back, Patriarch Reliance prostrated before him, along with his Outer Sect Disciples and Inner Sect Disciples and his Core Sect Disciples and his Personal Disciples and his True Disciples and his Disciple Disciples and his No Really Bro Disciples.
“I own you like Meng Hao.”
“NAAAANIIIII!?” Reliance said, shouting unnecessarily with a tear in his eye as if reminiscing.
“I dunno, Greg just told me to say that.”
“WE SUBMIT!” Reliance shouted annoyingly. “WE JOIN YOUR SECT!”
“Umu,” Dick said, nodding sagely. “So, uh, the fuck’s a sext?”