Feeding Time



John McCains lungs ached and his muscles screamed as the three raced round the corner. He considered himself to be in good physical shape indeed his instructors back at the academy would of agreed he'd consistently come top of his class in all activities and gained the attention of his superiors who had recommended him to join the specialised multinational task force, Knights of Freedom Control. His years here dealing with the most dangerous missions facing the Union had only strengthened his already admiral physical abilities, but now he was ready to drop. The last few days had been hell; things had gone wrong as soon as the drop ship had left them. Their contact was DOA and something was hunting them, picking them off one by one. They'd originally been a full platoon and now they were three.
They scrambled up a small cliff to get a better view of their destination and halted. In front of them was a pit with some sort of brown bubbling liquid inside it. Looking out from here McCain could see the extraction zone in the distance, it was close, if they could skirt round the pit they would be home free, it would be difficult the edge was narrow and looked traitorous, one wrong step and there would be no chance to make a second right one. McCain paused took a few deep breaths and looked at his Companions; the small but muscular form of the Frenchman Claude "French" Fry was covered in grime and sweat he'd dropped down in to a crouching position and was scanning the area slowly, his M-115 Laser rifle in hand and as always a cigarette expertly balanced in the corner of his mouth, everything about his movement appeared calm and professional but in his eyes you could see he was clinging on mentally by a thread. Alexander "Pommie" Frites the Englishman stood in the Weaver stance an old fashioned slug thrower in his hands, having dropped his heavier particle pulse cannon in favor of being less encumbered to run. His uniform immaculate as usual perspiration was on his brow and he was breathing heavy, McCain could also tell that, as he would say, he Could murder a cuppa. McCain couldn't help feel that the Colonel shouldn't of sent them on this mission, he made a decision, they were bound to die if they went back and tried to find a way round picked off by whatever creature was stalking them they would have to risk the narrow path round the pit.
"Alright, Fry, Frites we're nearly there we just need to make our way round this pit and then we're home free, lets go"
McCains briefing was quick and to the point and they were soon making there way round the pit. They were about half way round when McCain lost his footing and fell into the pit. The brown liquid quickly enveloped him burning his skin, McCain raised an arm out of the pit which Frites grabbed, there was the sound of laser fire then screams McCains arm was ripped from it's socket and his body splashed back it to the burning liquid. McCain grasped at his shoulder where his arm had been and inwardly wept, his men had been killed by whatever had been stalking them and he was being burnt alive in the pit, he'd failed his mission. Suddenly someone plunged down into the liquid and plucked McCain out he was saved.

Katie fished my chip out of the gravy dip and handed it back to me "There you go" she said with a smile and a twinkle in her eye. I smiled back thanked her and then ate poor Captain John McCains.

Labels: food, funny

Burger Bust
Mmmhmmmm This IS a tasty burger - Jules Winnfield

Feeling peckish at lunch time (as sometimes happens) I weighed up my options of what I could have to eat.
It's friday so Fish & Chips tends to be what most people go for but I can't be botherd getting in the car to drive to a good one as the local one is rubbish, the fish are dried up shriveled little things that you get the feeling have been left under the heater all month. The kebabs are good from there though. It's one of those places that combines a little of everything. I decide that having a Kebab covered with hot chilli source on a day as warm as this is just far too unpleasant a prospect for the afternoon. I instead settle on having a burger from the place that's finally deigned to open up it's custom to the lunch time crowd after being closed at lunch for over five years.

It's another of these bit of everything places and I've been told the food from there is good. Except for the Pizza, which seems odd as Pizza features promanatly in the business name.
I look up and down the boards list of burgers with names like: Mexican, Hawaiian, Chicken, Triple, Donner, American.
Now I don't have a problem with people calling their burgers strange names, I even do it myself, however the menus contained no description of what was in the burgers and when I asked the chap behind the counter he just gave me a blank look gestured at the board and said "All there." Well I wasn't about to be out foxed and made to look a fool even by someone so obviously cunning! So I choose myself The Deluxe burger, that would show him I'd get the best god damn burger he had. It was the most expensive bar the Triple Special Meat burger, but I had no intention of eating 'special meat', so I knew I was in for a treat.
I got back to my desk and opened the burger box. I closed it again. Then opened it, lifted the top of the bun and prodded the burger. I then consulted a dictionary. It said:

Deluxe [duh-luhks, -looks]
–adjective
1. of special elegance, sumptuousness, or fineness; high or highest in quality, luxury, etc.: a deluxe hotel; a deluxe edition of Shakespeare bound in leather.
–adverb
2. in a luxurious or sumptuous manner: We always travel deluxe.

I looked at my burger. My burger in a bun. I lifted the burger to see if I'd missed something, because well you never quiet know do you. Nope nothing there, no cheese, no onions, nothing.
I picked up the burger box and headed back towards the shop but his roller shutters where down presumably to keep out the baying masses who demanded proper descriptions of the food they were purchasing.
Well with nothing left to do I went back to my desk ate my burger.

It was a tasty burger. But all I could taste was defeat, you win this round shop owner.

Labels: food, funny, personal, work