Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom!

Title: Publicity

Summary: The Nasty Burger gets some positive press in the form of four hungry battle teens stopping in after a long night.

...

"Uh, sir? You're bleeding on the table."

Danny Phantom was not considered a social spirit in Amity Park. He did his hero stuff, sure, but he always disappeared after. And, of all the first attempts at making public contact, no one suspected he'd go to Nasty Burger. Yet there he was. In a booth. Tapping his finger on the table.

"Yeah, thanks," he said impatiently. "So, uh, is our order ready yet?"

"I want an extra coffee," Sam decided. The waiter nodded, wrote it down, and shambled off. The teenager had her legs on the table, wrapping a cut on her ankle. "There's not enough caffeine in my bloodstream to deal with life. Or being awake. Or awake-life."

"Saaaaaammmmm," Tucker whined, scrolling through a social media site with his chin on the table. "That'll just make it take even longer."

"Then let it."

"I need my meat fix, Manson!"

"I need the energy to make it through school today, Foley."

Their fourth companion, Jazz, was staring a hole into the ugly booth padding across from her. She wasn't blinking much. "I haven't slept in thirty-six hours."

"What's your point?" Danny asked, scowling, as he patted the wound on his side with Nasty Burger napkins.

In reply, she let out a tiny whine, sinking down in her seat. Sam grabbed her arm and started wrapping a claw mark. "I need more coffee."

"We all need more coffee," Sam insisted.

"How many coffee have we had already?" Jazz asked, wincing at her own improper grammar.

"Covfefe," Tucker said into his arms, only half-awake.

"Many coffee," she translated.

The early bird couple two seats down forced themselves to look away after the food was set down, shuddering to themselves. They hadn't known it was possible to eat a burger in two bites, but the group quickly proved capable of just that. Danny stole all of the fries he could get his hands on, fending off vicious attacks with ease. Sam drained her hot coffee like it was ambrosia, then made grab-hands at Jazz, who promptly hissed at her, clutching it to her chest. Tucker ate, then reclined with the sigh of a man who'd just been given water after going thirsty.

He leaned over and poked Danny in the side, taking care not to hit the spot that hurt. "Who much you wanna bet the Nasty Burger uses you for marketing now? 'Even ghosts will eat here!'"

"Don't care," he grunted between handfuls of fries. "Want food."

Jazz let out a weary laugh, setting her coffee down with a thunk. "Man, what even is life?"

"Is that a philosophical question, or were you going for rhetorical?" Sam returned, eyes closed. Her lipstick had rubbed off at some point. "Because I'm not on nearly enough coffees for philosophy."

"Let me reiterate. What even is our life?"

"Ah. Rhetorical, then."

Author's Note: I have fun writing these kids being dorks. =)

As much as I love the angst and dark stuff that floats around in this fandom, I think we need more silly 'fics like this. Just a bunch of teens trying to steal food from each other because they've been out ghost-hunting. Or maybe it's just me. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-Mandaree1