The Flying Food Bank (MCU SI) : Chapter 1 (Patreon)

A/N - I had an hour to kill before I had to go to sleep, and that was not enough to write a full chapter for any of my stories, or work on any commissions, so, new snippet it is. 

Funny how I can come up with a new story instead of writing a chapter for an existing story in an hour.Also, halfway through, I realised it was a fun concept to write, so I already have stuff in mind so expect a chapter soon.

Anyway, thank you for reading!

The Food Truck, Marvel 616

–Colin Cook–

You know what’s the greatest joy of a virgin who had never gone past first base? Food. Good food was even better than sex, or that’s what he told himself, as he stuffed himself with food every time he felt a little down, had some issues at work, issues with family, issues with himself and so on and so forth. He might admit to himself, in the privacy of his rented bedroom, that he might have had a bad relationship with food.

But that was all in the past.

Now, he was here, reincarnated as an honest to god model, inside a food truck that might as well have been alien magic, and confined to said food truck. Now, finding out that you were basically glued to a medium sized food truck was scary at first but over time, tears and a lot of swearing, he had come to terms with his situation, especially since he received the manual for the truck, which was just tucked away in his mind, waiting for his mind to enter a calm state before it could reveal itself.

That honestly told him a lot about the level of invasion, mental and physical, that he had been subjected to before he was dropped here, in the form of a smoking hot man. Well, any body issues he had before were gone now, he could say that at the very least. Maybe he might get like Imposter’s syndrome later on but so far? It was great.

It was great waking up from what felt like a nap instead of dying and shoved into a foreign body and feeling just energized, as if normal people could feel great and relaxed after going through what he did, though the memories of his death were strangely muted?

Oh, where was he?Ah, yes, the food truck part. See, the ROB who dumped here probably had a bad sense of humour and after taking a look at his food problem, decided to give him a food truck, an artifact that was probably on par with some named stuff made by the Dwarves or maybe even better, depending on how much durability the food truck had.

So far, in the 12 hours he had spent roaming the insides of the food truck, he had figured out a few things.

–He could not exit the food truck. There literally was no exit in this thing. He had no idea if someone else could come in or not. The doors did not open from the inside anyway.

–He was connected to the food truck completely. He knew that the truck was electric, and it ran on a theoretically infinite source of energy tucked away safely inside the chassis. He knew he could change the color and orientation of the truck with a thought, not the external size, though.

–The truck had all the cooking equipment he could ever need, all tucked away in the pocket dimension.

–The truck had a pocket dimension. 

–The truck was split into multiple sections. One being the driver’s section, one being the food truck section, with an open window to serve food. He couldn’t leave that area, he’d tried, and the third one was a pocket dimension that was very, very large. He hadn’t found the end of it so far.

–The truck was self-sufficient, quite literally. The unlimited energy powered a food synthesizer of sorts, that created everything he could imagine. Water was unlimited as well. 

That was all he could figure out in the past 12 hours he had spent inside the truck. He spent a not insignificant amount of time just cursing everything before accepting stuff and moving on to stuff that excited him near the end. By the time he had figured out just what this so-called food truck was, he couldn’t contain the excitement that bubbled within him.

Sure, the whole confined to the truck part was kind of bumming but that was for later Colin to worry about. The present Colin was excited about all the things he could do with his truck.

The truck could fly, move through any terrain, even space, without any issue, and with the inbuilt energy source, he could provide as much energy as one could need. The wiring in the truck was capable of carrying infinite juice as well, with no heating issue whatsoever. It meant he could just hook the truck to a city’s power grid and as long as their cables were capable of carrying it, he could just power an entire city.

No fuss, No muss.

Ofcourse, when he realised just what kind of treasure he was sitting on or in, he freaked out a bit, considering that he was also dropped in the Marvel universe, a place that had no dearth of people who would happily slaughter him and take what was his without losing a wink of sleep. Hell, if they found out that they couldn’t have his truck, they would much rather destroy it than let anyone else have it.

Typical Evil guy mindset, and sadly, a ton of people with power had that mindset in this universe, human or otherwise.

Thankfully, that little issue was solved when he fully went through the manual given to him. The food truck was not indestructible but really close to it. Made up of an Adamantium shell, which is really hard but not really great at absorbing shocks, with a Vibranium inner wall lining, which is hard as well but its main specialty lies in shock absorption, creating a mostly indestructible outer shell.

All of that was complimented by a forcefield that he could activate and also manipulate the shape of, if he wanted to, using the aforementioned infinite energy source.

That was just defense. He also had access to offense. In the form of a laser weapon, like a straight up energy beam he could fire from the two guns that were hidden inside the truck’s body. There was also an omnidirectional beam but that was not practical, to say the least.

Once he was done going through the manual two times, page to page, and had exhausted himself mentally with all the what-ifs, the stress, and the dissociation from the massive stress and trauma of being ripped away from all that he had known, he went to his bedroom.

A bedroom that he had only seen on Zillow, to be honest. An honest to god Prop bedroom was what greeted him. The mattress was very soft, and that was not good for his back in the long term but right now? When all he wanted to do was sleep in a dark cold room? The bedroom was literally perfect for that.

He was literally isolated from the real world in a pocket dimension. He hadn’t even bothered to check which city he was in, though the signs around the road were in English, so he put that off until tomorrow before letting sleep claim him.