Murdock's Mochas

Talk

All of Matt's thoughts came to a sudden halt. "Um... what did you just say? I don't think I heard you right," he asked, extremely confused.

"You heard what I said."

'Oh no, this guy better not be a madman.' Matt thought to himself. Matt breathed out, calming himself. He could deal with crazy. Most of his favorite customers were on the crazy side. If he could tame the Joker, he could do the same with this guy.

"A restaurant chain. Like fast food?" Matt inquired, using his hands to feel his surroundings a bit more. His bindings were still as tight as ever.

"Stop moving." The guy demanded. He then sharply added, "Fast food? Is that seriously all you think we can do, that I can do!? No. Just think about all we can do."

"Like what..." Matt asked, hesitantly. The pain in the back of his head was returning and his thoughts were growing increasingly unfocused.

"Well I guess you need a bit of context. The sheer potential of Murdock's Mochas is undeniable! I'm just a humble man seeking what makes the world go 'round: money. Money is power. It's as simple as that. But what you could gain is more than that: money, fame, and most importantly, influence. What do you think?" The guy said smugly. Matt could tell he was smirking.

"If I wanted influence I would have become a politician. Fame has never tempted me. I have all the money I need and I see no reason to want more."

The air in the room changed. Matt could tell that the man had stopped smirking. The man cracked his knuckles and let out a deep, shaky breath.

"I see, so you think you are better than me, is that it??! You believe yourself to be untainted by humanity's greatest vice?!" The guy hissed at Matt, whose arms were becoming raw because of the ropes tied around them. The man then grabbed the chair that Matt was tied to and dragged it further into the room. Without the wall behind him, Matt became increasingly discombobulated.

"And what is that?"

"Greed of course!"

"Greed? Sure. Everyone's at least a little bit greedy, but that doesn't mean I'm going to align myself with you. I don't even know what you want." Matt's breathing was ragged and shuddering. He could feel his conciseness fading. The goons must have done more of a number on him. His throat was becoming dry and he was shivering. He focused on his breathing, attempting to maintain an appearance of strength and calmness despite the current circumstances.

The man sighed and picked up Matt's injured hand again, sending Matt's stomach into further distress. "You frustrate me. You're so opposed to me and you don't even know what I want."

"I wonder why," said Matt sarcastically. His stomach was now churning so violently that he could scarcely feel the ground beneath his feet and it was taking all he had to not be sick right then and there.

"Ugh, fine. I'm a powerful man. Not all things that can give a man power are shiny tech devices and such. Some things are simpler, quieter. My people produce many varieties of materials, but my business has a focus on foodstuffs. My most popular and lucrative product is an additive of sorts. It makes food taste better, that's all. It's unsophisticated, but it works well, really well."

"Wait...You attacked me, destroyed my apartment, and brought me here because you want me to put an additive in my food?"

"Yes," the man declared proudly. He sounded quite sure of himself.

There was a few seconds pause of dead silence before Matt howled with laughter, rocking back and forth as the cords holding him would allow. He calmed himself down for a few seconds then resumed his howling.