Two all beef patties

Jul 10 2017

Two All Beef Patties

While sitting in a McDonald's for an early lunch. I stared at the open box of what should've been a Big Mac. It might've started off as a Big Mac. But with the lettuce all over the place, the special sauce looking like it just lost a fight. And the patties giving me the impression that they just got off a double shift down at the factory. It made me reminisce about how we came to this. This pale image of what used to be the quintessential burger of America. And it made me think War is Hell. Because I'm old enough to remember how it started. For those of you younger than I, you think this is the way it's always been. I write this to dissuade you of that opinion.

I remember the war. I was just a teenager. The battle raged for years. The prices droped and the pickles flew. There were sesame seed buns everywhere! The horror. In an effort to garner more supporters the burger bastions whipped them out faster and faster. Billy at the burger stop down the street didn't make it. While John was a master of spatula. Flipping faster than the eye could follow. Grilling onions at a pace that could make you cry. Faster!, the manager would cry. But I'm givin her all she's got! Was the only reply.

My God man! What is that in that shake? Well, it an't ice cream and not much of a shake. This will take them out a whole new door. A chemical reproduction of what our competitors call a milkshake. 50% more sugar 50% chemical taste. Let all that natural stuff go to waste.

During this time Jack hadn't made it fully into his box yet. He was just clowning around at it. And the Castle with its gleaming white towers never sallied forth to engage in the madness. They had been at war from the very beginning. And with their shakes unsinkable to the largest of straws, felt no need to up the ante. So it was just the King and the Donald throwing fries over the ramparts. Hardee's was all but done and elected to let Carl's stand in his place. The Col. and the Church’s stood well back from the fray knowing this was no place for them. They played chicken. Meanwhile the masses were assaulted and salted.

The burgers got bigger. Capt. this burger is structurally unsound, it's going to fall apart. Dammit!, then let it fall apart we need patties! But we're running out. Then put any meat you can find. Turkey, bacon, pastrami, hell if it'll work put baloney on it and get it out the door there's a war on. Ketchup!, ketchup!, my kingdom for some ketchup! Beware the Ides of March they bring mayo most fowl. Give them turkey call it healthy. But let them eat cake!

The happy meals no longer brought happiness as they did when I was younger. There was nowhere, no one, and no place safe from the war. The whopper was on what seemed like permanent sale at a dollar. Children across the country were scrambling to find every dime they could to sign up for the war. Susan B gets a whopper for me. As it turns out our lives were only worth the dollar the entry cost.

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This was found on a lonely hard drive in the back of a closet. The correspondent could not be found. Suspected to have succumbed to the conflict. Probably just another nameless face in the crowd covered in ketchup, mustard, and pickles. The sadness of society has come down to number of patties put on a bun. Ask yourself, how long before you're covered in secret sauce? Not a pretty picture is it?