"Hank, me and Will are headed out on a mission. Wanna come?"

Looking up from the delicate circuitry he was in the process of repairing, Henry Foss gave Kate Freelander and Will Zimmerman a quizzical look. "A mission? Damn, are the comms down again. I didn't…."

Kate waved a hand to quiet him. "No, no, this is definitely off the books and not something Magnus ever needs to know about."

That sounded ominous. In fact, it sounded like the sort of thing that usually wound up with at least one of them in mortal peril. "Yeah, I think I'm definitely gonna pass on that," he said, looking at Will and wondering what had gotten into him. Usually the profiler had more sense than to go along with one of Kate's…interesting ideas. "But if you want to leave some info with me, like where you're heading, who you're planning to piss off and just how badly they're going to want you dead, it would be a big help when we have to mount a rescue op."

"Haha," Kate mocked, crossing her arms and giving him a exasperated look. "It's not that kind of mission."

"It's really not," Will agreed with a smirk. "It's more of a fast food run."

Henry blinked at them. "Calling a trip to Wendy's a mission is being a wee bit dramatic, don't ya think?"

"This is no ordinary fast food run." There was a certain gleam in Kate's eye that Henry found more than a little troubling. "We're taking Ralphie to McDonalds."

"What?" The idea that they were taking the juvenile Stenopelhabilis on a midnight burger run was and odd one, even around the Sanctuary. "Why can't you just bring him back a trash bag full of Big Mac's?"

"You don't get it!" Kate said, again with the disquieting intensity. "The McRib is back!"

He couldn't help but grimace. Kate's taste for terrible fast food was legendary and Ralphie was equally fond of greasy burgers, but, to Henry's palate, the McRib was a whole other level of hell. Even before his sense of smell and taste had been jacked up to the Nth degree by his werewolf biology, he'd had a…contentious relationship with overly processed foods. The McRib came from no cut of meat that existed in nature and, when he found out that it was ground pork product squeezed into a mold, his negative opinion had been reinforced.

Hell, the only sausage he ate was the all natural, organic stuff the Big Guy got at the Co-op outside of Old City.

Now, his two friends and colleagues, two people he considered more or less sane and rational were both excited enough about the McRib to make a special 2am trip to get the sandwich.

Henry found that by far the weirdest thing he'd heard all day and earlier he been witness to Tesla having a fight with the big electro-magnet. An argument between a former vampire and an inanimate object was far less disquieting than the thought of the McRib.

"So, that's a no on the McRib run?" Will asked with a smile.

"Big no," Henry agreed, giving them a wave and turning back to his circuit board. As he heard his footsteps retreating, he called out, "I'll have the Tums waiting when you get back!"

If they didn't need them, poor Ralphie might.