Como Salsa para los Tacos: Chapulin
Admiral Biscuit
Chapulin hopped out of her Uber and stood in front of the restaurant. It was hard to believe that she was really here, but here she was.
She shifted around in her uniform. Shirt, hat, and pants. According to the sign on the door, customers weren’t required to wear pants; as an employee, she was.
At the door, she paused, checking her reflection in the window. Mane done up in a bun, uniform clean and complete, and on time. On time was important. Nopony—nobody liked an employee who was late to her job.
She tugged the handle on the door and pulled it open, then walked into the restaurant. Her shoes clacked across the tile floor—she didn’t normally wear them, but Taco Bell also required shoes for employees and customers alike. The farrier had charged her extra for short notice and extra for brass, but that was a sacrifice that had to be made.
Heads turned at the counter as she crossed the floor, employees who didn’t know she had a job here. She kept her head up and boldly walked to the ‘employees only’ door. It wasn’t bespelled and she could have opened it even without being an employee, but humans respected signs.
Chapulin had to tell the computer clock that she was present, and that was one of the many difficulties that had occurred during the hiring process. The password was supposed to be the last four digits of her Social Security number, which she didn’t have. Her Q-1 Visa had lots of numbers, and they’d finally decided to use four of those.
Most of the screens in Taco Bell could be touched for input, but didn’t accept hoof-pushes. She’d almost flunked her job interview then and there, until she’d shown them how accurately she could use a special pen on the screen. In fact, there had been a whole litany of skill tests to demonstrate how much she could lift at once, if she could fold a crunchwrap, and if she could pee in a cup. She’d passed all those tests with flying colors, and was now gainfully employed at Taco Bell store number 658.
Back in Equestria, on-the-job training would have consisted of having an experienced pony stand beside her and give her pointers for her first few weeks. Here on Earth, they let a computer teach her in what they called modules, explaining the Taco Bell way and how the cash register worked and how to make tacos. She paid close attention to the last, since that was why she was here in the first place.
In Chapulin’s mind, she was ready to go to the back of the house, ready to make tacos and burritos and chalupas and everything else that Taco Bell had on offer.
Ziri, her manager, had other ideas, and for her very first shift, Chapulin got pressed into front counter duty. She was to be the interface between the people and their food, the face of Taco Bell for eight hours.
The cash register was dumb and American money was dumb. The coins were obvious enough; the bigger the coin the more it was worth with the exception of the dime. Bills were all the same size and color and so she had to pay attention to the portrait and the number. Plastic cards had their own idiosyncrasies; most of them could just be stuffed into the reader but some of them didn’t like that and wanted to be slid instead. A few worked just by tapping them against the machine.
Coupons were paper or digital; the paper ones sometimes had little tiny printing on them explaining when and how they were valid, and it was all very confusing. Sometimes she had to ask Ziri for help and she hated that; she was a smart pony and a graduate of Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns and it was just the cash register or the rules that were dumb but she knew better than to say that.
Customers came in clusters, and she quickly learned that if she had time to lean, then she had time to clean. Washcloth in aura, she patrolled the restaurant and wiped down the tables and pushed the chairs back where they belonged—most of the restaurant was booths, so there weren’t all that many free-range chairs. Trays were supposed to be placed atop the garbage cans, but not everyone bothered.
Her lunch break meant food. Taco Bell had lots of ingredients and they didn’t have to be used just to make a menu item. Ramón told her that she could have an enchirito if she wanted, a burrito-enchilada hybrid based on a bean burrito.
That was too much for a first shift, so she instead had a veggie power bowl and a black bean quesarito and watched as her food was made. As learning went, it wasn’t much, but it was a start. A step on her journey.
•••
Days in, some of the bloom had come off the rose. Unicorns didn’t generally get involved in industrialized labor—not least because there wasn’t much of that in Equestria. On one hoof, it was disheartening. Some of her managers were jerks or incompetent or both, and on top of that, her co-workers were wary of her. She wasn’t trusted to make food just yet, and instead got to work the cash register, clean the lobby, take out trash, and restock the various cups and taco wrappers.
Just the same, that was learning and it gave her a chance to see every nook and cranny in the store, to look at the boxes in the cooler and in the storeroom, and to learn every option Taco Bell had when it came to menu items and their customization.
It was hard to remember her goal as she was taking a soggy garbage bag out ot the stinking dumpster while watching to make sure a car wasn’t about to run her over, but she needed to prove to her co-workers that she could correctly do menial tasks before they’d trust her to make tacos. The cartwright wouldn’t have her apprentice start out making a wagon, after all.
On Thursday, Chapulin got to help unload the delivery truck, and besides the stamps and stickers that said what was in the box, there were other stamps and stickers that said other things.
She kept a journal, sometimes writing in it on the job. Chapulin didn’t have to be in the break room to write in her notebook: remote writing was a skill she’d learned at Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. She didn’t even need an actual pen, which was for the best. Her fellow employees might have panicked if they’d seen a pen surrounded by a faint aura writing seemingly on its own.
Instead, her notebook stayed secure in the small personal bag she was allowed to bring to work, the pony equivalent of a human purse, and by the end of every shift another page or two was filled with notes and observations.
They could have been more concise, she supposed, but she was working covertly and didn’t always know what her handlers wanted or needed to learn. It was better to include all the little tidbits and let them sort it out.
•••
The first time she got tapped for drive-through was disappointing. It was like the front counter except she had to listen to the orders through a scratchy headset and couldn’t see the faces of the people ordering. It was annoying, but it was also a step towards knowing everything, so she did it with the most grace she could muster. The headest wasn’t made for pony ears and the buttons on it weren’t made for hooves and it took her a while to learn how to tap them with her magic, but she did, and by the lunch rush she was taking orders like a pro.
Taco shell preparation was another skill to learn; they had to be put in the basket just so and dropped in the oil. The machine kept track of the time so she didn’t have to; when it beeped, pull them out and stack them in the tray. She made a note of how the frying basket was shaped and how it held the taco shells in the proper shape, how long it had to be in the oil for—the machine counted down in seconds—and how hot the oil had to be. She didn’t figure out what the oil was, but it came in a box that held a jug, both of which had labels on them, and she remotely wrote that down in her journal.
•••
Mostly she took Ubers to and from work, but some days when it was nice she walked to work. There weren’t very many sidewalks and the idea of walking on the busy road with cars rushing by didn’t appeal to her, but there was a clear, straight-line path from her apartment to Taco Bell that ran under power lines. It obviously wasn’t intended to be used as a path, since there were two water crossings without proper bridges.
One had a cobbled-together bridge made out of rocks, tires, and planks; the other had nothing. She’d been smart enough to scout out the route on a day off, eventually finding a cheap rowboat she could ferry herself across in. It was already painted in camouflage, and when it was tucked away in the trees it was nearly impossible to see.
It had taken her a little bit of practice to use her telekinesis to pull herself across the bayou, and it turned out that it was even more difficult to pull the boat back until she thought to buy a big coil of rope, which she could easily lift across the water and then drag the boat to herself by tugging on that.
There was also the railroad crossing to contend with: the embankments were gravel which liked to shift around underhoof, and she had to be alert for trains.
The bayou ran almost to Taco Bell, and she thought about taking the boat the whole way, but decided against it since she would have to bring it back in darkness and she didn’t fully trust human woods or human waterways. There probably weren’t nocturnal monsters in them, but it was impossible to know for sure.
Thus, the Franchise Wars have ended...
There was also a sudden uptick in sales for restroom supplies, stomach tonics, This Way To The Facilities signs, and the building of temples for worshiping the Great God Ralph.
Taco Bell. Not even
oncetwice.Serious Taco Bell-ponyfic.
Everyone liked that.
I remember a first grade teacher explaining that the reason the dime was smaller than the nickel was because the dime was made with silver.
True when she was growing up, but even when I was in first grade, dimes had been made out of nickel/copper for many years.
I still remember (in a good way) my first Taco Bell. Jokes about GI distress and uniform, industrialised blandness aside, when you grew up in the northern reaches of nowhere, a Taco Bell beef chalupa is a downright exotic and special treat.
Ponies and Taco Bell, a favorite paring of the good Admiral.
*four years after a new fast food chain opens*
Equestria's Minister of the Environment: "Princess, methane levels are rising across Equestria dramatically! I don't understand it!"
Princess Celestia: *seething* "Taco Shoppe."
10424129
A decisive victory.
Now all restaurants are Taco Bell.
Who's Glen Bell?
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Taco Bell. Not even
oncetwice.I ate at White Castle once, and I’ve also drunk water from a drainage ditch. I’d do the drainage ditch again, not so much White Castle.
10424175
Yup!
10424206
Yes, it was, once.
Same. I wasn’t quite in first grade when they started making pennies out of zinc, but I was at least alive when that change happened.
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Locally, White Castle is known as 'Ratburger'.
This is widely seen as an insult. Especially by those who keep insisting that rat tastes better.
10424252
Oh yeah, I’m with you on that. It wasn’t until high school that I had Taco Bell, and it certainly wasn’t in our little hometown, you had to drive 20 miles or more to find a Taco Bell.
10424265
Truly the best pairing.
The good news is they can fix that with matches. All they’ve got to do is convince ponies that it’s cool to light farts, and problem solved. Or have the pegasi collect it and then they’ve got a natural gas industry.
10424340
Yeah, I’ve never had rat, but I feel like that would be a better choice than a White Castle slider.
At least they gave it an appropriate name. A warning, really.
10424353
Actually, more of an "UN natural gas" industry
Meh, more of a Taco Time kinda guy myself. But they're more of a just western US thing, really. Bet most of you haven't even heard of them until just now when I mentioned it. But I really like their crisp tacos--yum, yum!
10424338
Well, mostly zinc--the thin outer coating is still copper, so at least copper is still used in their production to some degree.
Actually can do some fun things with that, if you're willing to destroy a few pennies. Zinc melts easier than copper does, so if you hold a penny over, say, a bunsen burner long enough, the zinc interior melts leaving the copper shell supporting all the weight, but it's not nearly thick enough to do, so the whole thing starts to crack and break apart like a melting M&M.
I also had a chemistry teacher once who had cut a penny in half and then used a certain solution (I don't remember what) to dissolve the zinc interior, leaving just the hollowed-out copper skin, which he passed around the class for us all to examine.
You can't send credit cards, VCR tapes, etc. through those magnetic security devices.
I don't think I've ever seen a story where unicorn magic demagnetized stuff.
But, if unicorns can't use their magic too near computers.....talk about a Culture Clash.
10424367
My chemistry class did this:
10424417
Yeah, done that too, and even thought about mentioning it in my previous comment (it's how I knew pennies can melt like M&Ms if heated for too long).
I kept the "gold" penny I made and still have it stashed in a little coin-sized case (or less the zinc coating will degrade and it'll loose the gold color) as part of a small coin collection I have.
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IIRC, "Word of God" mentioned (as a silly joke no doubt) that pegasi... produce... helium and other noble gasses. I could see adolescent pegasi (university age stallions naturally) using weather magic to send high current pulses of electricity though pockets of gas, creating impressive aerial arc-lamp displays. (This is of course is immediately followed by multiple admissions to A&E for "lightning rump" flash burns and acute photokeratitis)
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I was as well, and even had the set of seven different 1982 pennies.
Let us not forget Taco Bell's most famous spokedog
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It’s coming out of an actual pony as a byproduct, there’s nothing more natural than that.
10424367
We don’t have those in Michigan; Taco Bell is exotic enough, thank you. When it comes to cuisine, we traditionally cook our pizzas in drip pans we stole from an auto plant. Further north, it’s pasties, and we’ve also got pączkis but only on Fat Tuesday.
Oh, and Faygo and Vernors.
Point is besides the effervescent bubbles in Vernors, most of the cuisine we’re known for isn’t spelled like it sounds or tastes like paint. Or both, if you cook your pasties in a drip pan you stole from an auto plant.
And said copper is still more than one atom thick, but only because the machines that coat to the single-atom scale are more expensive than the cost-savings.
Haven’t tried that yet. Although internet research suggests that you can do that with a backyard solar death ray, and FWIW I have the parts to build a backyard solar death ray.
At a guess, hydrochloric acid.
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I might still have a lead bag for sending undeveloped film through X-ray machines.
I wrote a story where Pinkie Pie demagnetized credit cards (among her other unintentional skills).
My own thought on that is that as long as they don’t go too nuts, the computer’s FCC protection against stray EMI protects them. If they do go too nuts . . . well, it ranges from letting the magic smoke out to slagging the whole tower.
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Science!
(linky ‘cause Knighty won’t let us have nice things)
10424425
I don’t have any “gold” pennies, but I do have a gold-plated Craftsman ratchet which is currently safely in its case, and one day I’ll have a need of it to finish a project.
Ponies in the Admiral’s stories love Taco Bell so freakishly much that I wonder what would happen to a pony who sampled high quality TexMex from one of those family restaurants that have been passing down and refining recipes for generations. Would their taste buds not be able to handle it and their tongues explode?
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She did (I believe the words ‘literal ststorm’ were used as well). Also that earth ponies poop on the ground and fertilize the flowers. :Heart:
The trick is to keep the tail high to avoid singing those hairs, and I would assume a good push to make sure that the flame front doesn’t travel the wrong way. It’s a learning curve, and probably a few trips to A&E for burn cream.
10424531
Best I can muster is a set of 1977 proof coins, in a little plastic holder.
Also, somewhat unrelated, I still have a Canadian dollar bill, and those have been gone for a good long time.
EDIT: also, any number of Canadian pennies, ‘cause those still show up in American currency every now and then. Less so than they used to, obviously.
10424613
RIP Gidget.
10424673
It’s not a matter of the taste per se, it’s a cultural experience, something to do on Earth. For ponies, Taco Bell is the Disney World of fast food. Any number of ponies know full well it’s not the best [in fact, in the chapter I was just finishing up, Serrano has many valid concerns about the sauce factory], but for them it’s reached nearly mythical status.
This is largely inadvertent, but in the first widely-distributed newsreels of Earth, there was footage of Taco Bell, both the interior of the restaurant and also of course the drive-through and so impressionable pony minds thought that all (Earth) restaurants are Taco Bell, and the rest is history.
And then the ponies were called to act as judge
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I take it that at least some ponies are working at the traditional Mom and Pops and learning those methods. After all why just straight copy when you know better is out there for inspiration of improvements.
10424688
Maybe that's how they were the only restaurant to survive the franchise wars?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s-LzYwbYkQs
10424354
Having grown up with a steady diet of Taco Bell it is my goto fastfood place and also one of the few I craved when I lived outside the US. During various travels I've also determined the sliders are appropriately named as while being ok there is a distinct and important biological clock set when you eat it, one that is hard to ignore.
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Nope. It's canon that pegasai fart helium, unicorns fart neon and earth ponies, nitrous oxide. Lauren may have been joking, but there's no reason to not accept it.
And it's really sad that Earth has a helium shortage, so humans should be welcoming ponies and encouraging their Taco Bell consumption. Maybe recruiting them to assist in researching and understanding their gut flora mechanics. For welders, superconductor cooling and balloon decorators alike.
Big agree. Aussie notes (bills) are colour coded, which makes it really easy.
Also, pennies are the worst and we don't use those.
Ugghhj Taco Bell. As someone of proud Mexican descent, Taco Bell should stop advertising its food as Mexican and instead American food. Since tacos are soft not hard. The ponies should try out food from those family owned Mexican restaurants.
What about Taco Johns? More "authentic" fast food Mexican.
10424997
As one Mexicolt to another Try Taco Johns. It is more "authentic" Mexican fast food.
The story feels like it just ends. Does not feel like a conclusion. Is it supposed to feel that way or did I miss something?
10425058
Well, its incomplete, so...
Tacos as an esoteric secret society where you must rise in the ranks to learn the innermost knowledge of the faith, in order that you may share it with the others
They weren't testing accuracy, but I can understand the confusion.
A most adorable example of industrial espionage. Looking forward to seeing what comes of it. And I do love the idea of covert note-taking being a vital skill at CSGU.
10424129
Wait, does that mean ponies know how to use the three seashells?
Huh. :D
I wonder what the reaction will be if any security services find out that there's a large and organized Equestrian spy ring operating on Earth to secretly acquire the knowledge needed to build, not nuclear weapons, not supercomputers, not missiles or spy satellites or any of the more expected targets... but Taco Bells. :D
edit:
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By the way, am I missing something? Which part are you referring to? I'm not remembering it or finding it looking back.
10425070
LOL Now sure how I thought this was a one shot and complete lol
10425137
No worries!
Pony corporate spy shenanigans? Sign me in.
(Plus I am glad to see you doing another ship fic, your OTP TacoxPony is so cute!)