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The Untimely End of Ham McBurgler
By: Bob-0
"Oh my God he has a gun!"
Those were probably the last words spoken by me, the Hamburgler.
That seems like ages ago, but I’ve been sprawled on this rice-white
colored floor in a puddle of my own grease, just waiting and hoping
for the sweet embrace of the crypt. You may ask how a hamburger
stealing, black and white striped, grease bleeding midget got into
this mess. Hopefully, with my last breaths, I can clear everything
up for you.
It all started when I woke
up from being passed out. I was in a field. I had just drunk a
hard McDonald’s shake, and man did my head hurt. I think that damn
shake was around 150 proof. Though I was slightly disoriented, I
could tell that this wasn’t a normal field. The first reason being
that the grass wasn’t fluorescent yellow and there weren’t walking
shrubs that love fries trotting about, something was wrong.
Then I looked at myself, my
clothes were striped as usual, thank God. I felt sort of sick and
jittery, so I took off my Zorro hat and took off the inside lining,
I found my valium in there. I took 10, which exceeds the physician
recommendation of 0, and I passed out immediately. This time,
instead of waking in a field, I found myself on a cold metal table,
and a red laser advancing slowly towards my crotch.
Needless to say, I
panicked. I struggled to break free from the clamps that were
holding down my arms and legs. I tried to think of a plan, but I
had no time with the laser quickly approaching. So I gave up and
tried to imagine the whole process as quick and painless. Just as
the moment of my demise was at hand, I heard an explosion and didn’t
feel anything except for my arms and legs freeing. I noticed that
the laser had hit my freshly polished stainless steel cup; the beam
was reflected back at the machine and destroyed it. The explosion
singed off my eyebrows and broke my shackles, I was free.
Now that there was no glow
of the laser, the room fell completely dark and silent, but it was
comforting compared to the genital destroying laser, but I had no
idea where I was. Just at that instant I remembered I had my
lighter (cleverly engraved “HB”) and pulled it out of my pocket. I
lit that bad boy and checked out my environment. I checked some
crates that were in the corner, that were labeled “Grade G Meat” and
had big golden “Ms” on them. A conspiracy! McDonalds has been
feeding us greasy road kill this whole time.
Well I’m starting to regret
stealing and eating all of those McDonalds products, but how was I
supposed to know? They were so damn tasty! Though this was no time
to reflect on my shameless lifestyle, it was time to break out of
here. The door sealing me in this icy death trap look pretty solid,
but I had a plan. I pried open the crates of tainted meat and
rubbed the meat against the hinges of the vault door, hoping that it
would destroy the hinges with the awful liquid on them, but I had no
success. Then, I found a meat tenderizing 2x4 in the corner, so I
used it to beat the absolute piss out of that vault door, making
noise that anyone within a mile would have heard, but nothing
happened. So I finally just tried the vault handle and the door
opened, miraculously, I stepped outside the meat fridge...
Chapter 2 |