Would You Like Brain-Fries With That?

Would You Like Brain-Fries With That?

• 11.3.09

by SHELL SHERREE

Hubby returned from his burger run this afternoon with a genuinely funny story, as opposed to the usual ones that I laugh at because I love him.

While waiting for his chips to be 'up', the perky chicky-babe on his window informed him that their sister store a few suburbs away thwarted an attempted robbery.

In a sign of defiance to any wanton displays of grey matter, the two would-be 'entrepreneurs' drove into - err, the drive through, to make their demands. They thought they'd nailed it. No need to waste time hoofing it over to the getaway car. Just stay in the getaway car and hit the pedal to the metal as soon as the money was handed over.

Unfortunately for them, not all went to plan, though I'm assuming they really didn't have one and it just seemed a good idea at the time. When they pulled up and said, "Give us all your money," the quick-witted girl {my money's on a brunette} simply slid the window shut and walked out of the booth, leaving them sitting there with hands as empty as their brains.

At this point, discretion would have been the better part of valour. But it comes as no big surprise to find these dudes skipped their Shakespeare class in favour of the advanced glue sniffing class, aka woodworking.

They should have smelled a rat and gunned it out of there. But years of extra certification in woodworking class had perhaps taken the edge off their olfactory system. Instead of fleeing, they sat in their vehicle and waited. Dude. I'll bet they have Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure posters on their bedroom walls and thought it was the coolest documentary they'd ever seen.

Before long, a carful of people who actually could spell and knew the sign said Drive Through Takeaway, not Drive Through Getaway, pulled up behind them in readiness for the traditional custom of handing over money to the attendant in exchange for something hot and spicy. {Depending on the attendant, they might also get food.} This innocent manoeuvre effectively cut off any chance of retreat for the culprits.

By the time the carful of customers with normal brain function sat on the horn to express righteous indignation at the hellishly slow service, a police car calmly drove in from the opposite direction and blocked off the exit. At long last, the fumes wore off or an addled sense of self-preservation kicked in, and the brain-fries fled the vehicle. They were quickly tackled to the ground. Either that or they tripped because they'd tied their own shoelaces together.

I can almost imagine the conversation as they sat in their car, waiting.

"Dude. Where's she gone? I thought they kept the money in the register."

"Dude, you're a moron. She's gone to get the order we placed before we drove through."

"Excellent. I wish I'd asked them to hold the pickles."

"Pickles. Dude, what's with those things. Eat pickles and die. There should be a burger made just of pickles for the weirdos who eat pickles. Then the rest of us don't have to even think about not eating pickles."

"Hahaha. Pickles sounds a bit like pecker. I wanna burger but hold the pecker."

"Hahaha! Oh, I've got a good one. Do you want fries with that pecker?"

"Dude! That's uncool."

"Oh. Yeah. What do you think's taking so long?"

"They're opening a new jar of peckers? Hahahahahaha!"

"Hey, what's that bogus thing from school. Peter Pecker piped a pick of peckered peppers?"

"Hahaha. Really, dude, should it be taking this long?"

"If it was that pizza place, we could try and get it free by now, they're taking so long."

"You think we might get it free?"

"Dude, there's a car backing in front of us. Hey moron, you're going the wrong way!!!"

"Man, what an idiot."

"Moron!!! Dumb ass!!! Oh. Wait. Bummer. Run, dude, run!"


Sadly, even an A+ in woodworking class won't get them out of this pickle. No matter. I'm sure their mothers are very proud.