Regular Show Fries Night Novels & Stories

“What do you want to do now?” Brooklyn asked after the club shut down for the night. “I’m too pumped to go home.” “There’s that all-night diner a couple of blocks over,” Cort suggested. “It doesn’t look like much, but the food is decent. We’ve been there a few times after gigs.” “Their hashbrowns are to die for,” Bradford said, putting his hand on his chest and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. “That seals the deal for me,” Shea said, linking her arm through Bradford’s. “If they have the best hashbrowns, I’m in.”

“How about truffle fries with a garlic aioli? Or would you prefer something simpler?” Truffle fries? Is that even a thing? “Uh, simpler is fine,” I say. She nods and gets to work. Within minutes, the smell of freshly fried potatoes fills the air, and I sit awkwardly at the kitchen island, feeling like I’ve wandered into a completely different life. Calvin appears just as Maria places the fries in front of me, along with a small dish of ketchup that looks way too fancy for what it is. “How’s it going?” he asks, sliding onto the stool next to mine.

"This early?" "Yeah, but not just any fries," she continues, her voice gaining a hint of excitement. "I want the ones from that diner we went to... you know, the one with the spicy garlic aioli?" I blink at her, trying to process the request. It's barely six in the morning, and she's asking for diner fries with aioli. "Aria, that place doesn't even open until noon." She gives me that look—one that's both innocent and demanding at the same time. "But that's what I want."

“I’d love to see you in action, and I don’t mean that sexually for once.” “Thanks. It’s kind of funny to say I love conflict in that sense. Well, mediating conflict.” She takes a bite of pizza. “This is good. It’s from Getaway?” “It is.” “I have been missing out by not going. Are those onion rings?” She opens the bag. “And French fries? Score!” It’s three AM and we’re pigging out on junk food. I never thought this would be a perfect night, but it is. I want more of this…and more of Charlie.

Anthony and Paulo would soon take advantage of the situation. Amanda started trying to sabotage Sarah's things and soon her childish jealousy was becoming ridiculous. At the weekend there would be a trance party at Camille's property, another rich digital influencer who studied fashion and hung out with Amanda, not exactly a close friend, but having fun at her expense. Everyone made nasty comments about this situation... Every time she wore clothes that attracted attention trying to compete with Sarah. The long-awaited Friday arrived, as usually the parties given by Camille Mendes were announced on Friday and held from Sunday to Monday.

"Why do they even bother with 'small,' 'medium,' and 'large'? It's clearly a joke. They should have 'snack,' 'meal,' and 'feast' sizes because, honestly, no one can resist the allure of a good fry. It's a universal truth, you know that, I know that, unless you're some sort of Alien. Oh and then there's the eternal debate, ketchup or no ketchup? I mean, who needs that judgment in their life? Let people enjoy their fries in peace!" "Didn't think potatoes could inspire such passion." He said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "We should protest, you and I both know fries are discriminated, it doesn't have a voice, let's stand for it," I sighed. Dante chuckled softly as he smoothly pulled

And a side of fries, because he says he is hungry for more than just pie. "Fries and pie?" I say. "Do not judge me. It has been a long day." When the food comes, the table fills up. Two plates of pie. One basket of fries. Two cups of coffee. Eli pushes the fries to the middle so we can share. I did not ask for fries, but I take one anyway. It is hot and salty. Perfect. "So," I say. "Tell me something. Something I do not know." "You already learned my name. That is a big thing."

Because the fry was unbelievably good. Perfectly crisp on the outside, soft inside, still hot enough to release steam when I broke it apart. I actually widened my eyes a little in shock before I could stop myself. Julian noticed instantly. “Good?” he asked, sliding ketchup toward me across the table. “That place is famous. We’ve been eating there since college.” “This,” Dean declared while pointing dramatically with his beer bottle, “is what we call artistic necessity,” he informed Frank before suddenly turning toward me with renewed interest. “Do you listen to music?”

"Yeah, I was there at ten o'clock last night picking up the four orders she placed when I was in the shower... and do you think I got a single fry? No." Narrowing her eyes at him, "Hush, Your single fry is why we're in this predicament." She motions to her belly. "Well, what do you expect when I have such a smoking hot mate?" He says with a shrug before kissing her cheek in admiration. Rolling her eyes, she smacks his chest with the back of her hand. "FRY, FRY!" Tate chants. "Mhmm, yeah, buddy, fries sound good. Let's go check the food table."

I don't even know what to call myself. While blocking the imminent response from my subconscious, our orders finally arrive at our table. Ryle gets his two plates, one that has a two-patty burger and sweet and spicy fries and another one that has birria tacos and tater tots. I then get my plate. I have a chicken burger sandwich, plain fries, and mozzarella sticks with more ketchup dip. I look at Ryle who's happily digging into his massive quantity of food. It's really obvious how much he missed this place by how smiles appear on his lips in his every bite and chew. “You have to breathe, Ryle,” I say as I pour ketchup onto my fries.