The mall was peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Obesseus entered the food court and stopped dead in his tracks.

“…Why so many restaurants… in one room.”

His knees buckled.

He grabbed the railing for emotional support.

Before him:

 Pizza

 Burgers

Chinese food

 Tacos

Fried chicken

 Pretzels

 Ice cream

Obesseus whispered, “This is buffet pretending to be democracy.”

A teenager behind the counter blinked. “Sir, you have to pick one.”

Obesseus laughed nervously.

“…Pick?”

He approached the pizza place first.

“One slice,” the cashier said.

Obesseus nodded.

“One slice… per step.”

He walked to the burger stand.

“One combo,” the worker said.

“Combo mean together,” Obesseus replied. “Yes.”

The Chinese food employee asked, “White rice or fried?”

Obesseus stared at him.

“…Why choose when both alive.”

Trays began stacking.

One tray.

Two trays.

Three trays.

A fourth tray cracked under pressure.

Captain Calorie Counter descended from the escalator like a prophecy.

“THIS ENDS NOW!” he shouted, clipboard glowing. “You’ve violated the One-Meal Rule!”

Obesseus gestured to the food court.

“But room designed for many meals.”

Calorie Counter pointed. “Food courts encourage moderation.”

Obesseus gasped. “Lies with lights.”

Security approached.

“Sir, you can’t eat here.”

Obesseus paused mid-bite.

“…Where supposed to eat food?”

A pretzel fell. Someone screamed.

Ice cream melted in protest.

Obesseus sighed, sat down, and combined everything onto one tray.

“There,” he said proudly. “One meal.”

Silence.

Captain Calorie Counter stared.

“…That’s not what that means.”

Obesseus shrugged.

“Food court confusing. Obesseus adapt.”

The mall evacuated.

The pretzel stand survived.

Barely.