Don't Fuck Up The Machine Day!
The machine works. It's refined, oiled, and good. Every part of the machine understands its duty, and every part expects the same of every other part.
"Chicken broccoli white rice to go."
Good. Right and expeditious. The machine understands that you understand the machine. You are welcome here, as you prepare your exact change of five dollars and twelve cents. You are why lunch sometimes is perfect.
"Hi are there vegetables in those noodles?"
The man behind you is a threat to the machine. As long as the man behind you is allowed to proposition the machine with a transaction, the machine is in danger of coming to a complete halt. Kill the man behind you with a large metal fork.
"What you do?"
"I've done what is necessary."
"I call police."
The machine has to call the police. The machine can't appear to condone such a crime against society, no matter how necessary it might be to the machine's survival. Watch the server as he dials the three digits of 911. He'll wink, and he'll wait to dial the second 1. He wants you to run. For your own benefit. For the benefit of the machine. Run.
Happy Don't Fuck Up The Machine Day!