The Takeout Takedown

"You—!"

Mike clearly hadn't expected me to call him out in public. Furious and flustered, he snapped.

"Jennifer, don't push your luck! Who was it that cried yesterday, begging me not to break up? Who said you'd do anything as long as I wasn't mad?"

He started spewing nonsense, trying to drown out the truth with sheer volume.

"You're just jealous—jealous that I've got a good job and great connections! You set this up on purpose to make me look bad, didn't you?!"

The commotion had grown loud enough to draw a crowd.

At that moment, a shrill voice cut through the noise.

"Which shameless vixen is bullying my son?!"

The crowd parted automatically.

An older woman in gaudy, mismatched clothes, her hair permed into a wild, frizzy halo, stormed in. She had probably heard her son was hosting a dinner here and came to mooch a free meal—and maybe take some leftovers home.

The moment she saw the scene, she didn't hesitate. She lunged straight at me, claws out, aiming for my face.

"So it's you again, you jinx! Wasn't it enough to scam my son out of a meal yesterday? Now you've chased him all the way here to extort more money?!"

I stepped back, dodging her grimy hands.

Missing her strike, Mike's mother dropped to the floor and began wailing, slapping her thighs in dramatic despair.

"This is outrageous! Bullying honest people like this! Everyone, come look! This woman is so desperate for a man she won't leave my son alone—and now she's trying to extort 188,800 from us! What did our family ever do to deserve meeting a bloodsucker like this?!"

Her shameless performance ignited the crowd instantly. Bystanders who had no idea what was going on began pointing at me and hurling accusations.

"So young, and already pulling scams like this?"

"She looks so innocent—who knew she'd be this scheming?"

"Someone should call the police on women like her!"

With reinforcements at his side, Mike straightened his back, his confidence instantly restored.

Helping his mother up, he fixed me with a vicious stare.

"Jennifer, you see how things stand now. Either you pay the bill like a good girl, and I'll pretend none of this ever happened… Or…"

He grabbed a bucket—filled with leftover scraps, cigarette butts, and spit. The stench of rancid food was nauseating.

Holding the bowl, he stepped toward me, a twisted grin spreading across his face.

"Don't you love packing leftovers? As long as you lick this entire bowl clean, right here in front of everyone—every last drop—I'll admit this meal was on me. I'll figure out the 188,800 myself. You won't have to pay a cent. Well? Sounds like a pretty good deal, doesn't it?"

Silence fell over the room.

Beside him, his mother clapped her hands in delight. "Yes! Make her eat it! Trash like her deserves pig feed!"

Mike shoved the bowl right under my nose. The sour stench shot straight to my head.

"Eat! If you don't, it means you've got something to hide! If you don't eat, then you pay!"

With a flick of his wrist, he made a move as if to dump the filthy contents over my head.

"If you won't eat it, then I'll feed it to you—"

At that critical moment, the door burst open.

"Stop!"