Maccie Dee's Drive Thru

	Quiet please, concentrating.
	Radio off.
	Specs on.
	Memorise defaults: chicken burger, banana milkshake, medium.
	Two lanes.
	Counting cars.
	Lane 2.
	Can't see the billboard.
	
	Quiet please, concentrating.
	Snailing forward.
	See the billboard.
	Offers.
	Thinking: chicken and steroids, or beef and BSE?
	Beef. They sorted BSE.
	Or did they?
	Chicken: steroids and anti-biotics.
	Chicken.
	
	Quiet please, concentrating.
	Scanning the specials.
	Jerk, Mexican, Korean.
	Hot chicken. That will kill the bugs.
	Chicken Mc-hot-wotsit please.
	Medium or Large? Yes. Which? Medium. No large. 
        Is the burger bigger? No just the fries and drink.
	Drink? Shit.
	Milkshake: protein and dairy.
	Or fizzy pop: fucks your teeth. And everything else.
	Milkshake, banana. shaken not stirred please.
	Move to pit stop 2.
	
	Quiet please, concentrating.
	Two lanes.
	Merging.
	Shit. How do you they know it's me?
	I'll pay for a Big Mac, they'll pay for my hot-sit.
	Chicken Mc-hot-wotsit? Yes.
	Paid. Phew.
	Move to pit stop 3.
	
	Quiet please, concentrating.
	The goods are there.
	Suspiciously bagged.
	Straw. Paper. Waste of space. Like sucking stickers.
	Salt and pepper?
	No, pre-salted, 4 days worth.
	Park up.
	Eat, drink, relax.
	Quiet please, concentrating.