Unsettling Fast Food Conversation - 8/18

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RE: Unsettling Fast Food Conversation - 8/18

Postby Penyse » Sun Aug 23, 2009 1:18 pm

You lean over the window of your car to speak.
"I'll just have small strawberry shake, please." The speaker doesn't echo your words. A lady's voice beings to chatter, and you lean closer. The speaker need repairs, perhaps.

"...Of course it's real. Why would I ever get a fake?" A man answers her, in a softer tone.

"Well, not many girls are into that kind of thin'."

"Why should guys have all the fun?"

"True. Is it new?"

"Yup!" she boasts. "I just got it last week. And look! If I arrange my clothes just right, no one will even notice."

"I'll still notice." The man sounds on edge. "Hey, do you mind if I touch--"

"No!" shouts the girl. You fall back into your seat, continuing to listen. "I'm kind of protective, y'know? Only for me an' my best buds! You can look though, if you wanna." Something tumbles and creates a loud crash.

"Holy cow! How long is that thing?"

You clear your throat into the microphone, loud enough to cause momentary pain in your neck. The female's voice answers.

"Strawberry shake? Is that you?" The girl turns away from the mic to talk to her fellow worker. "I'll come with you to the break room in a minute!" She leans out of the window ahead of you and beckons you forward. You drive up and exchange a five for your pink, frosted indulgence.

As she passes you the cup, her sleeve unrolls to reveal snake coiled around her arm. She redirects your attention back to her.
"What? It's Bring-Your-Child-to-Work Day, isn't it?" She giggles. A large man comes and crosses his arms behind her. His nametag shines his status of 'manager'.

"No, lil' missy. It ain't."

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RE: Unsettling Fast Food Conversation - 8/18

Postby stargazerlilly12 » Mon Aug 24, 2009 4:35 pm


I pulled into the drive-thru at McDonalds after a very dull day at the office. Nobody was in line before or after me, so I felt like quite the lucky duck. "Welcome to McDonald's, may I take your order?" said a young man's voice. "Yes please, I'll have a quarter pounder without cheese, medium fry and medium Coke." "Would you like two baked apple pies for a dollar extra?" "Why not." "Alright then."

My drive-thru experience was at the moment no different than any other, but was about to change drastically. I heard another young man say to the first, "Hey, Jeremy, how's the wrangling goin'?" "Not bad," said the guy who took my order, presumably Jeremy, "This one's sixteen and lives about ten miles from here. I should be able to meet her any day now." "Cool, this is like, what? The fifth teen girl you've targeted?" I gasped. I just had my order taken by an online predator!" I quickly got my food and raced away.

I didn't stop until I reached the nearby gas station. With trembling fingers I called the police station on my Blackberry. "Hello, I'm trying to report a child rapist!" I cried out. "Ok, description and location please." I heard the cop chomp into what sounded like a donut and take a sip of coffee. "He works at the Mackenzie Avenue McDonald's. Around 25 years old. His co-worker called him Jeremy. The co-worker mentioned that Jeremy had had about four teenage female victims before this one." The cop sighed in relief. "Thank heavens. We have four unsolved teen molestation cases on file here at the station. Thanks, ma'm. You have been an unbelievable help."

The next morning, the officer I had contacted yesterday had called back and told me that the elusive Jeremy Hammurschedt was now in custody and that the police were mailing me a check for $500 for my assistance in tracking down the predator. I settled down in my recliner with a Harry Potter book but was soon interrupted by a knock at the door. With my bedhead, terrycloth robe, and bunny slippers on, I shuffled over and opened my door. There stood a fortysomething couple and a teenage girl. "Thank you for saving our daughter," sobbed the woman, whose huge hazel eyes were red from crying. "Yeah, thanks," said the girl, "I could have been raped, or worse if it weren't for you." She was the most beautiful girl her age I had ever seen. I hate to imagine what that awful man would have done to her. Her dad seemed unable to speak. They thanked me once again and went home, leaving me to reflect upon my adventure.

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RE: Unsettling Fast Food Conversation - 8/18

Postby kuroihito » Tue Aug 25, 2009 4:10 am

After waiting a few minutes for the cashier to repeat my order, I heard a strange conversation between him and another man. 'I'm going to kill you for what you've done to our family’ says the other man. “Alright John, I knew my past would catch up with me but you don't have to threaten me!”my cashier says. “‘You know damned well you murdered my sister, Your Wife, stole her inheritance and vanished!” says John. “But I didn't kill her, I swear. She was seeing somebody else and was pregnant by him. She told me so,” my cashier says. “Nice try. If you were innocent, why didn’t you call the police and give them an explanation?” John says.
“On my way home from a business meeting that evening, my plan was to discuss with her whether we could save our marriage and I would be the father to her baby. The family would never know but I found her dead. My first instinct was to flee. I left with the clothes on my back, nothing more. John you and your family never approved of me or the marriage.” John says, “Yeah right! You did it and your life is over TODAY!” The next thing I heard was “No John No!”, then a loud blast. Gurgling sounds were coming from my cashier. The whole restaurant was in sheer panic. Everyone was shrieking, screaming and rushing out of the restaurant. I hurried out of the drive-thru, parked across the street and called the police from my cell.

Four squad cars and the ambulance filled the street with loud sirens in 5 minutes, it seemed. The squad cars surrounded the restaurant. Officers quickly jumped behind their open cars doors to shield themselves, guns drawn. Just then the chief of police stepped forward then squawked on the bullhorn, “Drop your weapon. Come out with your hands up! We know you’re still inside.” Then John screamed “The bastard is dead. I’m glad I killed him. A life for a life.” The chief’s bullhorn came to life again. “John we know what happened to your sister. You killed the wrong man. You murdered your sister, stole the money and used your brother-in-law as the fall guy. Your father told me he was leaving everything to your sister. Come out with your hands up!”

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Re: Unsettling Fast Food Conversation - 8/18

Postby wizzy56 » Tue Aug 25, 2009 8:09 am

After ordering a Whopper and Fries and a medium Coke, the speaker at Burger King crackled before I heard a middle-aged male voice say: “I don’t care! Whatever you have to do, I want her dead tomorrow and eating worms………” There was a short pause and then I heard another older raspy male voice say “Okay, I’ll have to make sure she’s far enough away from the clinic parking lot. I want no witnesses. She takes the back road home, like you say she does, I’ll just bump into her fender at the stop sign at the Rt. 12 intersection, cause a little accident, exchange insurance information and then I’ll stuff her into the car and pump a few pieces of lead into her….” “Good. Just get it done. The bitch is living her last day on earth!”

I believed I was hearing dialogue from a movie which the young teenagers behind the cashier counter must have been listening to, instead of doing their job. I leaned closer to the intercom, “Hey, did you get my order? I’m still waiting….” “Yes, sir, we got it, a Whopper fries and a medium Coke, right?” “Yes” “Please drive around to the pick up window” As I was about to put the car into drive I heard the speaker go all scratchy again and I heard the man talking wanting “the bitch dead” but the words weren’t clear. I shook my head in disgust and drove around to the pick-up window, intent on complaining to the manager.

The bag of food was passed to me through the window by a middle-aged woman as I asked to speak to the manager. “I’m the store manager. How can I help you?” “Well, I was sitting at the window for the longest time while your employees must have been watching a movie back there…” “I’m sorry sir, a movie? There’s no movies allowed in here…” As I turned my head away from the manager to look forward, content on dropping the complaint and more focused on eating my lunch, I happened to glance over to see a man parked in a red Ford Escape. He was talking on a cell phone and he was very animated, gesturing to whoever he was speaking to with an open right hand. As he listened to his phone his lips went tight and he appeared annoyed, almost angry. A thought passed but I dismissed it: It couldn’t be.

I ate a few hot fries as I drove away, on my way to visit a friend. I looked over onto the seat at the Google Map and turned right onto Sycamore St. It showed: “2 miles and then turn left at Ryan Parkway” At Ryan parkway, I glanced over again at the directions which told me to go 1 mile and turn right at Rt. 12. My heart pumped and I began to sweat. I reached for the cell phone and called 911….

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RE: Unsettling Fast Food Conversation - 8/18

Postby WriterandMusic » Tue Aug 25, 2009 10:28 am


“Two double cheeseburgers, please.”
“Hello there. Who is this?”
“Uh, Jeff.”
“Yeah. Could I get…”
“Are you an American.”
Da hell…”Uh yeah.”
“Pull forward.”
“Uh, look, I just…”
“Pull forward, please, sir.”
I pulled forward. The man who leaned out the door was short. He smiled. I could see that the happiness beneath it came from a dried up well.
“Uh, is everything all right…”
“So you’re American?”
“Ah. I see you all everywhere. In the streets. Talking.”
“I’ll just come back later…”
“No, really…”
“Stay. I must tell you something. Stay.” He brushes back his coat. There’s a revolver there. My hands tighten ‘round the wheel.
“So, you say you’re American.”
“Yeah. Pretty sure I said that.”
“I used to be American. What do you think I am now?”
“Uh, don’t know...Canadian.”
“What is it with Canada. Everyone’s always saying they want to be Canadian when all they do is drink beer and watch hokey. No, I am a Greek.”
Oh, God, please, God…
“Why, you may ask? Americans say they love freedom, they love liberty. Then they gain their freedom. What do they do with it? They build these restaurants, they surround themselves with illusions No, the Greeks had their freedom. And they used it. They thought, they built… Are you listening to me? Now be honest. It is just because I have this gun, right? Don’t worry, it’s not loaded.”
I shot away. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I saw him in the dinning room, alone. He was reading a book. He looked up, and then waved the book and a sign in the air. It read, "This book is Reality! The Republic is Reality!" He smiled. I turned around and looked out the windshield. Da hell...

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RE: Unsettling Fast Food Conversation - 8/18

Postby huntemann » Tue Aug 25, 2009 3:26 pm

“No, don’t throw out that whole basket... So what, just sweep them up and put um back in the fryer for a few seconds. It’s hot, that’ll kill any bug guts on um.”
“Ah, that’ll be $9.74 at the second window. Thank you.”

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Re: Unsettling Fast Food Conversation - 8/18

Postby ANIB-SHO » Tue Aug 25, 2009 7:16 pm

Claire Bear, as Allie and her husband so fondly refer to the little person growing inside her, gave Allie, what she thought, unlimited excuses to eat whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. Her heart beat wildly as she passed the giant golden arches and she took her salivating mouth as a sign that Claire Bear wouldn't mind a little afternoon snack as well.

"...and two double cheeseburgers, no pickles, please,” Allie reached for her coin purse and jumped a little when Claire Bear kicked the side of her stomach.

"$3.49,” droned the young man’s voice on the other side of the black speaker box. “Please pull up to the first window."

While Allie sat waiting for a semi to back out of the fast food joint’s loading dock so she could pull up, she laboriously dug toward the bottom of her purse for more change, refusing to use her debit card on such a small purchase.

“Ali,” a woman’s voice called out from the speakers. Allie perked up. “Did she say Allie? Or Ali?” she asked herself. Her ears strained for another utterance.

“Alejandro!” the woman’s voice cried again. Allie sat back a little, whoever it was, they weren’t looking for her. The voice cried on, “Alejandro, I couldn’t stay away. I needed to see you again.”

Allie laughed to herself, “what kind of fast food kid listens to soap operas while he’s working?”

“What are you doing here? You come to where I work? I am trying to work Lexie,” the young man’s voice from before replied. Allie glanced toward the speaker again, maybe this wasn’t a tele-novela after all. The young man’s voice had become a little strained, but she was sure it was the same one that took her order.

Allie thought about interrupting, coughing, giving some kind of indication that she could hear their conversation, but was quickly distracted from doing so when a crate full of bags of frozen French fries slide off the back of the semi truck. “Leave me alone,” he continued. “I told you its over. You’re a married woman, Lexie, you can’t be acting this way.”

“But I love you Ali. I want to be with you, just tell me, what is the real reason you are leaving me? I know it isn’t the sex. Is it the age difference? That I have children your age?”

“I don’t care that you’re an older woman, Lexie, you know that. But you can’t be showing up where I work, always coming in with new clothes or expensive presents for me. It’s embarrassing.” Alejandro’s voice sounded frustrated at this point and the older woman could be heard in the background sniffling. By now, Allie’s head was halfway out the window struggling to catch every word. “This thing,” Alejandro continued. “It was supposed to be a secret, Lexie. People are starting to talk. You’re a U.S. Senator’s wife for God sakes, start acting like one.”

The simultaneous disclosure of scandalous information matched with the piercing sound of the car behind her laying on their horn was enough to make Allie’s head spin. She had become so engrossed, she hadn’t noticed the semi had completely cleared the drive-thru lane. She jumped at the second sound of the horn, but instead of pulling up her eyes quickly glanced back at the black speaker box.

Complete silence came from the box now, not even the crackling of someone else listening on the other side. “The horn must have tipped them off that I could hear them,” Allie thought. She shifted her eyes to the security camera mounted on the corner of the building—pointing straight at her. “Can they see me?” She stiffened up and waved a thank-you, or sorry, to the man in the car behind her.

As she eased her way toward the first window she could feel her face turning a deep red. “Please let there be a TV in the background,” she mumbled to herself. Whether it was true or not, she cared more that she had been caught eavesdropping more than anything.

The young man who took Allie’s order stood in the first window, looking as petrified as Allie thought she looked. Not anything like she had imagined, the young man turned out to look no older than 16. A very scrawny figure, greasy brown hair, and pot marks on his face indicated he was in between acne breakouts. “He looks harmless,” Allie noted, her thoughts now stirring with confusion.

“$3.49,” the boyish figure behind the window squeeked. He was nervous, but still looking her straight in the eyes. He looked like he was looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t even asked yet. She handed the money over without a word.

“Those soaps will really draw you in,” he said, cupping her change in his shaking hands.

“Huh?” she said back, unconvincingly playing dumb.

“Those soap operas,” the kid said again in a deeper voice, this time pointing a monitor behind him. “They’ll really suck you into the story line, get you hooked.”

“Oh,” Allie nervously laughed back. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” A wave of relief and confidence rushed over her as she peered at the commercials rolling in the background with the mute sign in red.

“Don’t tell my boss though, trying to get a raise so I can save up so more money to go to prom with.”

Allie laughed again, genuinely this time. “You’re secret’s safe with me,” she said, taking the change from his hands.

Convinced, she moved her foot toward the pedal and headed for the second window. As she pulled away, the sun’s bright glare caught the silver strip on the teenager’s right pocket and a shocked Allie read the name tag aloud, “Alejandro”.

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RE: Unsettling Fast Food Conversation - 8/18

Postby Rixusmaximus » Thu Aug 27, 2009 10:16 pm

(don't worry, I'm not insane... just a little shot at a horror story.)

The fat woman across the table informs me I will be participating in a writing exercise today. Arts and crafts for the old fool in shackles. Several minutes are sat in silence before I am able to respond.

"Writing can be a powerful exercise, Mr. Hamm."

The fat woman, expecting no reply, slides a pen across the table. The last time another human being willingly offered me a sharp object was in 1984, and he wasn't found until 1998, when some young whipper-snapper thought it might be a fine idea to develop the field I grew so accustomed to digging holes in.

"Mr. Hamm?"

The guard behind me is unlocking my restraints. His arms are thick and I entertain, briefly, how amusing he might look with my new pen lodged in his forearm. The thought passes, and I bring my hands to rest on the table in front of me. The fat woman is waiting.

And I love to tell stories.

My name was Joe the night I met the woman with long hands. That was in 82', the night I changed.

I was working the swing shift at an old textile factory at the time, and rarely remembered to feed myself before my shift started. Morley's Pub N Grub, the last resemblance of a pulse in this poop unicorns and rainbows town, had burned down the summer before, so late-night meal options had been reduced to one of two isolated burger joints about 5 miles out of town. The neon-glow of an open sign, "We're open late!" was the only thing greeting me as I pulled of the interstate and into the scarcely lit parking lot of "Darla's Drive-Thru." At the time, fighting the exhaustion of another 12 hour shift, I didn't pay any attention to the lights flickering within.

I rolled my window down, tossing out my cigarette, and waited for whatever poor teenager had drawn the short stick for the night shift that evening . The talk box, however, held no greeting. I could still see the lit open sign, and I was still hungry, so I killed the engine. Maybe the lone employee was using the toilet. I could wait a few minutes. As I reached for my cigarettes, the little box let out a loud, static sound. "Hello?" I responded. Silence. The lights began to flicker, violently. This time, I noticed. The box let out another static burst, louder than before. I thought I heard laughter. "Hello?" I asked again. The box hummed with static and a small whimper, "Please...I..." The voice began to scream as a violent ripping sound filled the empty parking lot. Then, silence. Terrified, I pushed the clutch in and started my car. As I shifted into drive, a woman's voice came over the air. "Hellooo." It cooed. The lights were no longer flickering. "Hello?" I replied. "Are you okay in there? It sounded like somebody was screaming." The woman laughed, sweetly. Like a young girl might laugh on a date. "Oh, we're just fiiine in here. I bet you're hungry. What'll you have, darlin'?" Taken aback, I didn't know what to say, so I placed an order. "Well, alright darlin', you come on over to the next winda. You're in for such a treat, sweetie-pie. It's a special night, and it's on the house tonight."

I never did ask myself why I ordered anyway that night, or why I pulled up to the next window. Maybe I was too tired to ask myself any of the questions a normal person might ask, or maybe I was too young to know what questions to ask. Whatever the reason, I pulled up to that window as Joe Hamm, and left as something else.

The woman had white skin, and a red dress hugging her so tightly it took me a moment to break my stare. She was thin, with larger than average breasts, and larger than average lips. Her red hair flowed in curls to her shoulders, and when she looked at me, I could feel my seat soak as I wet myself. Where her eyes might have been were two empty sockets, but I could still feel her staring at me. She smiled, and brought a doggie bag up to her face. The bag was dripping. Her fingers were three or four times longer than they should have been. She breathed in, "Mmmm. Smells goood." She offered me the bag, but I couldn't will myself to accept. "Now, don't hurt my feelings, darlin'. Tonight's a special night, and you're the star." As if in a daze, I accepted the bag. Her long fingers curled around my wrist and she pulled her face to mine. Her hands were dripping something red. "You have a nice day." She whispered. Her heels clicked loudly as she walked away, into the dark.

As I drive away, Jim Morrison eerily reminds me, "People are Strange," indeed.

That evening, I murdered a family of 5 and ate their insides.

Now, if you'll excuse me, dear reader, the man with thick arms has left me alone with the fat woman. I think I'll eat her.

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RE: Unsettling Fast Food Conversation - 8/18

Postby bert » Sun Aug 30, 2009 7:26 pm

The packaging line was finally running smoothly. I was dead on my feet, my knee was protesting with every step and I still had to make the 40 minute drive home.
Caffeine...my personal siren call. I pulled into the Tim Hortons drive thru.
"Welcome to Tim Hortons may I take your order" the speaker squawked at me.
'I'll have a large double double and a glazed sour cream donut.' Sugar along with the caffeine would definitely keep me going until I could fall into bed.
I was expecting the usual, that'll be $3.10 but instead I heard. 'That's it. She's the one.'
All of a sudden I didn't need caffeine. My body was on red alert.
'You gotta do it, if you want in man. This is your test.'
HOLY poop unicorns and rainbows! was all I could think. I threw the car in reverse, dodged the curbs and peeled into the deserted street. I made it home in record time, shucked my clothes and hid shaking under the covers. The next thing I knew the radio was blaring in my ear..."Last night in Hamilton there was a spin on the drive-by shooting. This time the shooter was at a drive thru window, in the local Tim Hortons, and the victim was doing the driving."

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RE: Unsettling Fast Food Conversation - 8/18

Postby BigD » Sat Sep 26, 2009 1:36 pm

"I'll take a double-double and chocolate milkshake, please. And some fries, too." No response. "Hello?" Nothing. And then a voice, female, young.
"I know the truth. I know what you are."
Another voice, then. Male, young, smooth as silk. "Say it."
"Your skin is pale white. You don't go out in the sun. Your eyes change color."
"Say it."
Hahaha. That's one of the worst bits of dialogue I have ever heard. Hahaha.


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