For the Love of Hot Dogs

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Once again at the Balamb Garden it was hot dog day, the most glorious, all-beef day of the week. The line to the cafeteria reached all the way around to the exit of the garden. In front of the line, as usual, was Zell, all hopped-up, jonesing for an all-beef wiener, covered in yellow mustard and neon green relish.

“Awe, yeah!” he said, hopping around like a cocaine-fueled Tom Arnold. “Thanks for camping out all night for hot dog day, guys!”

With him were Selphie, Rinoa and Squall, the later was half asleep. “Was it really necessary to stay the night in line just for hot dogs?” Squall sleepily asked.
“Man, have you had them?” Zell asked, even though he knew the answer.
“Is this guy serious?” Squall thought, shaking his head. “Sigh.”

“Don’t be a party pooper,” Selphie said, snapping a pic of her three friends. “We had a blast last night! We told ghost stories, we played card games! It was hella-fun!”
All Squall could think of was getting impaled again by the Sorceress. “Sweet death, why did you evade me?”
Finally the hall monitor opened the door. “Lunch will be served!”

In a matter of seconds, the orderly line turned into a Black Friday crowd, knocking over the monitor, stepping on the heads of junior classmen, pushing poor Headmaster Cid over a railing, into a floral arrangement. “My word!” he bellowed. “Must be hot dog day!”
As a girl reached between Squall and Rinoa, to grab a bun, Squall slammed his elbow into the crown of her head. “Oh no you don’t!” he thought, “That’s the last poppy seed bun!”
“Please, don’t fight over the buns!” the lunch intendant yelled. “There’s more in the back!”
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Finally the gang sat down, with their trays filled with beef-filled intestine sticks. “All right!” Zell yelled. “It’s chow time!”

The gang wolfed down their prized meals, as if they hadn’t ate in a week. “Mother of god,” Zell cried, “If I ever see that cook, I’m going to sex them so hard.”

“This guy is bat trout crazy,” Squall thought as he stabbed his fork in the forehead of a wayward junior who tried to snatch one of his hot dogs. “What some guys’ll do for food.”

As everyone was eating their meals/getting their battlewounds attended, in walked a group of four Moombas. “Oh crap!” Squall said hiding his face in his hand. “The Moombas!”
Apparently, one of the Moombas had taken a shine to our sulky hero. Rinoa giggled.

“Awe, it’s cute,” she said, gently elbowing Selphie while pointing at Squall. “It just wants to be your friend.”
“Hey, Rinoa,” Selphie said with a wide, Daisy Ridley grin. “Know what’s coming up?”
“What is it, Selphie?” Rinoa asked, puzzled, but still chuckling at Squall’s embarrassment.
“It’s going to be St. Valentine’s Day!” Selphie squealed. “It’s the Moomba holiday where they show their appreciation for the ones they love by giving them a small token of gratitude.”

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“Ooooh!” Rinoa said, grabbing Squall’s arm. “That means…”

“Don’t say it!” he said, jerking his arm back. “I’m not taking part in any of this, and you better not draw any attention to it, got it?”

The girls laughed. Zell, on the other hand just took two hot dogs off of Selphie’s plate while she wasn’t looking. “Sweet, sweet processed beef…” he swooned.

The Moombas got their plates and walked by Squall’s table. One of them had two, each with a hot dog on it. It placed the plate down next to Squall’s and scurried off.

“EEEEEK!” Rinoa screamed. “It really likes you!”

“Stop that!” Squall yelled, almost knocking the hot dog away before thinking better. “I’m going to eat this hot dog, but it doesn’t mean I like the Moomba!” Then he proceeded to stuff his mouth.
By this time, Zell had cleared the remaining two hot dogs from Rinoa’s plate and was reaching towards Squalls. Before he knew it, Squalls gunblade was aimed right between his eyes. “I’ll smurfing kill you, man,” Squall warned. Zell back off.
After an absolutely uneventful Borsch day, it was St. Valentine’s Day. Before lunch, the school was holding a special ceremony, where the Moombas would present their Valentines, boxes of sweets, to their admired.

A line of eight Moombas, all who resided in the Garden, stood at attention. The student body and staff stood around. Fujin and Raijin stood before the Moombas. “ATTENTION!” Fujin roared in her usual demure manner.

“Today is St. Valentine’s Day,” Raijin continued. “We here at Balamb Gardens and Casino would like to honor our friends, the Moombas, by participating in their annual ceremony. All of you have been warned that a gift for an admired one would be appreciated on this day, so we can all celebrate in the Moomba’s day.”

Headmaster Cid looked at Raijin in a peculiar manner. “Um… thank you, Raijin and Fujin for that… I don’t know how to say it… speech?”

“ELOQUENT!” shouted Fujin.

“Sure, let’s go with that,” the Headmaster continued. “Anyway, let’s start the gift giving part of our ceremony.”
Students and staff who bought gifts for loved ones were put on the list and their names were called to present them. Quistis was called first, and she gave candy bars to all of her students. “Even you get one, Squall,” she said with a longing look in her eyes that would set most men’s pants of fire. Squall just took the candy bar and pocketed it, looking away, embarrassed.

Rinoa presented Squall with a box of white chocolates. “I know you like them, even if they aren’t real chocolate.”
“God, why doesn’t she just shut up about ‘real chocolate’,” Squall thought. “Thanks,” he said.

The Moombas were then called up one by one to present their gifts.

“God, it’s going to give me something, isn’t it…” Squall sweated.

The first gave Selphie a large heart shaped box of chocolate covered cherries. “How sweet!” she said, giving the little creature a hug.
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“Oh, god, why does this have to happen to me?” Squall thought.

The second Moomba gave the library girl a book of poems by the great bard Edward. “How lovely,” she said, giving the little creature a kiss on its forehead.

“Fuuuuu…” Squall said grasping his face in his hands.

Subsequent Moombas gave gifts to subsequent Garden members. The headmistress Edna received a pair of tickets to a rock concert, the student who runs in circles received a pair of new sneakers. Rinoa received a chocolate rose. “Delightful!” she said.

Irvine, who had been away on hot dog day, received a package of hot dogs from a Moomba who worked in the kitchen, making Zell super jealous. “Hey, buddy, I’m sure you’ll share, right?” he said, bouncing in place like Jar Jar Binks on Meth.

The seventh Moomba gave a box of licorice to Fujin. “MY FAVORITE!” she roared, squeezing the Moomba tight in her vice-grip arms.

Then there was the eighth Moomba, Squall’s Moomba. “Oh, god, this is so embarrassing!” he muttered under his breath. Rinoa looked at him with a Cheshire Cat grin.

The Moomba looked around. It went up to the cafeteria lady and pointed to the back. “I’ll get’er,” the lady said, walking into the back.

“Oh, god, what is this nutcase up to?” Squall thought, shaking his head in his hand.

The cafeteria lady comes forth with a large, rotund creature. Donning a faded pink dress, lacey apron and large chef’s hat. Its face was flat and white, with a grotesque smile and large, dangling tongue.


The student body murmured. “Now, now,” Headmaster Cid announced. “We have yet to introduce you to our Garden Cook.”

The students were in shock. “Th-th-that’s our cook?” Zell said, jaw dropping to the floor.
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Irvine snickered, saying to Zell, “So that’s the one you want to marry?”

“I’d like to introduce all of you to our Head Chef,” the Headmaster continued, “Quina Quen!”

The students responded with a lackluster clap of confusion. “Thank you,” Quina responded. “I hope you love the food I work so hard to make.”

Zell responded, “C’mon, guys! We can give her a warmer, Balamb welcome!” The student body then cheered loudly as Quina took a bow.

“Now, now,” the Headmaster said, hushing the crowd. “Our Moomba friend has yet to give the last Valentine of the Day.

“Oh, god,” Squall thought, “that thing wants me to three-way with it and that other thing, doesn’t it…”
The Moomba pulled out a big heart, filled with fruit flavored candies, and handed it to the odd chef. “I… I’m so happy!” it exclaimed. Then it waddled its way back into the kitchen.

“That’s it for our Valentine’s Day ceremony!” Headmaster Cid exclaimed. “Remember, exams are in a week, so you’d better all study, because I’m expecting all A’s!”

The crowd dispersed, leaving only Squall and Rinoa.

“It… it gave me nothing,” he thought.

“Well, you should be happy, Mr. Crabgrass,” Rinoa chided. She looked behind him. “Seems you didn’t trout your pants, at least not literally.”

She headed back to her dorm. “Serves you right, though,” she continued. “You are crass when it comes to those who care about you.”

Squall looked and saw the Moomba sitting with its friends. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a pack of gum. 4 slices left. He walked up to them and handed them each one. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said.

“And I better not hear that any of you said anything about this.”