Automatically, the sliding glass doors parted and released the wafting smell of fried food out into the world.

“Welcome to Chick’n’roll” a soothing, feminie voice whispered from an unknown source. The faint red glow of the company’s name and logo appeared in the reflection of the immaculately polished restaurant floor adjacent to booths full of people sitting, eating lunch.

Coiled in the middle of the dining room, a large line of hungry customers were wrapped around rows of plastic barriers, silently awaiting to place their order. Each person stood facing forward, vacantly gawking at the back of whoever’s head they followed until reaching the front.

A masked man stepped forward from the entrance and scanned the room with his eyes, obviously looking for something.

“Well, it’s about time you showed up.”

Off to the side, a woman approached, eyebrows knitted and with a sharp, annoyed tone in her voice.

“It’s been almost ten minutes since I requested your help.”

Without expression, the masked man stared at the woman, nodded, and waited for her to go on.

“You people should be more considerate of a citizen’s time and friendly points… well, aren’t you coming?” the woman said, who was beginning to walk away, but turned around and beckoned the masked man.

He followed and they made their way to the opposite side of the Chick’n’roll where a majority of the tables were occupied. Those who had already finished their french fries and chicken sandwiches listlessly sat, quietly looking down at their trays covered in crumpled wrappers and condiment stains. That is, all except for the children, who instead stood up and bounced on the glossy-red cushions of the booths, hooting and hollering, throwing their trash and/or toys to the floor. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.

The woman halted and faced the masked man, pursing her lips in preparation of the argument she was to make.

“You’re lucky… It looks like he’s still here.”

The man in the mask intently paid attention to what she was saying and tried to discern what was happening in the vicinity.

“How is it that I can help you, ma’am?” the masked man asked.

The woman replied, “Isn’t it obvious?” and removed her wrist from her hip and held out her hand as if she was presenting a prize to someone on a gameshow.

At one of the booths, motionless like a statue, a man with a huge, burly chest, vested in a leather jacket and wearing a black motorcycle helmet on his head, covering his face, sat by himself. In front of him on the table, a soda-fountain drink and an untampered white paper bag that appeared to be full of food. He didn’t seem to react to their presence.

“This man right here stole my food.”

“Is that your food on the table?”

“Yes.”

The masked man approached and stood at the edge of the table.

“Excuse me sir, I think there might have been some confusion with the orders and you may have taken this lady’s food by accident. Would you mind if we take a look at that receipt on the bag?” the masked man said.

He waited for a reply. Still, nothing but silence from the man.

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“See? He doesn’t reply. How brazen of him to just steal my food outright and sit there like it’s no big deal. And he’s covering his face! Why else would he do that? He’s obviously trying to steal someone’s food.” the irate woman expressed.

The masked man gave her a look and turned his attention to the table. He held out his hand and waved it in front of the visor of the helmet. No response. Feeling satisfied with that, the masked man picked up the white bag and held it front out in front of him.

“What’s your name, ma’am?”

“Darcy”

“Well, this does to appear to be your order, but let’s talk to this guy before…” the masked man said before stopping. He suddenly realized the motorcycle helmeted man had stood up and was beginning to remove his headgear.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” the man demanded to know once revealing a bearded, aging face.

Hesitating, the masked man presumably took a few seconds to gather an explanation as he held the white bag full of chicken sandwiches, potato wedges, and Polynesian sauce in front of the woman.

“Uh… You see… There might have been a mistake with the ordering system, and it seems like you may have received this lady’s food­– “

“No way! That food is mine. I paid for it with my own friendly points.” the man in the leather jacket said, stepping closer to his accuser.

The woman got in between them and said to the man “Why were you trying to hide your face, then? Sort of suspicious to be concealing your identity like that!”

“Can’t a man sit at a restaurant and watch his shows on the vybe in peace? Can’t believe I’m being accused of being a thief!”

“We can simply clear this situation up if you could tell us your name, sir…”

“That sounds like a perfect excuse to have your face covered so the argus system doesn’t record the crime you committed” the woman said, holding her hand out and pointing to a small red circle on the wall, glowing with electronic illumination.

“Why, you… You think you can come in here and use one of these hired thugs to bully me out of my food, lady… you got another thing coming!” the bearded man said, holding up his pointer finger to the woman’s face.

“Excuse me, sir. If you could just tell us your name, then all this will be cleared up…”

He looked away from the lady and towards the masked man.

“My name…? My name is Darcy.” He said, and immediately snatched the bag from his hand and sat back down. He then pulled out a sandwich and a sauce packet and took a big bite before reaching behind his head and adjusting the electronic device around his right ear. Then, his eyes became glassy and the rest of his sandwich remained uneaten.

“Hmm, it looks like there’s been a mix up… Maybe if we go check at the service desk at the counter, they can tell what the automated system did with your or–”

“Order 1209: Darcy Jones, please come to the front.” A robotic voice echoed from the pickup counter.

The woman looked towards the food dispenser at the front, then towards the masked man who she had just hired, and then turned up her nose and sounded her gratitude with a “hmph” as she walked away.

Next to the male Darcy’s table, the masked man watched her grab her food from afar and then the sound of an alert rang from his pocket. Taking out his phone, he swiped open the home screen and tapped on the notification that had just appeared.

[Quick! App update: Mission complete! Were you satisfied with this mission?]

Two icons of cartoon faces popped on his screen, one smiling, one frowning. He chose the happy face.

[Quick! App update: Congratulations, You have received 2.34 friendly credits!]

“Aw jeez, only 2 points? I was expecting at least a six for doing that…”

He exited out of the popup and went to his profile to check his balance.

[Profile page – Name: Plain-Man – 27.5 friendly points earned total]

“That means I need to complete… two hundred and fifty similar missions to make ends meet this month… Ugh!” The masked man lamented, heading towards the exit.

On the way there, a bright plastic toy hurtled through the air and hit Plain-Man on the back of his masked head. He rubbed it, though it didn’t really hurt, and turned to find the origin of the object. A kid with a discipline visor wrapped around his forehead that was obviously malfunctioning bounced on a booth cushion, lackadaisically grinning at the hero with anticipation in his eyes.

Squatting down, Plain-Man picked up the toy, which was a replica of the third incarnation of the Buddha, and smiling, handed it back to the boy before finally going through the sliding doors, back out into the world.