“Well, I don’t have to be if you don’t want me to be, but I figured it’s a decent enough display of good intent. It’s nice to meet you as well, Yvette! It’s so lovely meeting new people, don’t you think?”

(Quackity is still smiling, but close-lipped, and it looks significantly more strained.)

Why does she feel like this entire conversation is a trap. She feels like this entire conversation is a trap.

“… yes? But it does depend on the people. And I’m objectively terrifying.”

“That’s good! Or, well, it’s good for you. Makes you harder to hurt. Not as good for the people around you, maybe, but that just makes it more important for us to get into your good graces, no? —I’m sorry, I’m overwhelming you, aren’t I? Ranboo and I can make you a burger, free of charge.”

“No, no, please, I insist. She’s visiting Las Nevadas, I can get her a complementary meal.”

“Isn’t your restaurant still under construction?” Wilbur asks, and Quackity glares for a moment before his pleasant smile appears back on his face. “And besides, you already got to show her your country! Surely you’re not feeling threatened by a tiny burger van?”

“Boys, boys, you’re both very pretty,” she says in a deadpan, “Now please stop socially fighting for my attention, it’s creeping me out.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” He winks at her. “Sorry, sorry, we’ll cut it out.”

“Lead the way, then, Wilbur. You know, I haven’t actually tried one of your burgers yet.”

She is unaffected by the wink. It helps that everyone is all weird and blocky and not really registering as possible romantic partners to her, so.

“Thank you,” she says placidly. “And yeah, sure, I can have a burger.”

Then they can go to the burger van!

The burger—or, well, two pieces of bread and a steak—is served to her by an 8-foot-tall teenager who’s half black and half white with glowing green-and-red eyes. He’s incredibly polite and also visibly anxious.

Awwwww baby. She knows what it’s like to be anxious! She’s immediately sympathetic.

“Hi!” she says brightly as she takes her burger. “I’m Yvette, nice to meet you. In person, I mean, instead of just confusing you with a name of gibberish.”

“I’m, uh, Ranboo. I guess you already knew that? From chat and also, uh, my nametag. Um. Nice to meet you, Yvette? Yeah. You seem… cool?” (Now that he’s closer, she can see that he also has raised purplish streaks under his eyes.)

“Thanks! You too.” Burger nom. It might be a little unsettling to see an apparent cutout to a starscape take a bite out of a burger, but. It seems to be a perfectly ordinary bite. “This is good, thank you! … also if you or Wilbur see any sign of the mind control egg, I’ve made it my personal mission to erase it from existence entirely, so.”

“Oh. Okay, that’s good to know. It’s, um, probably good that someone is doing that. …I assume you’ve already been shown the room it’s in? Unless it’s moved or something?”

“I have! Sam showed me.” Burger nom. “It’s safe now, I got rid of all of it that I could find.”

“Oh! Oh wow. That’s, um, that’s really cool.” He is just going to put a grass block on the ground. “I’ll, um, go now? Unless there was anything else you wanted to ask me, or if you wanted another burger or anything?”

“No, sorry to keep you.”

She’s not sure why he put a grass block on the ground, but. Okay. Sure.

Ranboo half-bolts back to the burger van. 

“Love that guy. He’s a good kid.”

Quackity gives a neutral sort of hum and takes another bite of his burger. 

“He seemed like he was going to vibrate out of existence out of sheer anxiety.”

“That’s pretty much his default state, yeah.”

“That sounds really stressful. Poor guy.”