I'm being punished to work in dungeon-like, moldy, hellhole that is Burger King. Days upon days of serving customers, and for what? I do not remember my name, or the reason I am being forced to labor in this way; so why? Why am I forced to work at Burger King? The Goddess chose Burger King specifically, and for what? What here at Burger King is there that I could have done, or should have done, that I did not? Am I being punished because I didn't do enough at Burger King? What am I missing? Is there an answer to my life in Burger King?
I have no answers, but I don't even know where to look. This is why I am in the dungeon and working in a Burger King. I'm not good enough. I'm not worth anything, and yet I am here, with nothing to do, working for what? There are people who come to Burger King, looking for food. They think that because I'm behind the counter they can get food. They think that because they can hear the other people working in the restaurant they can also get food. They don't realize that everyone here is just doing what they're supposed to be doing. This is where I am supposed to be. I am not here to get food, but rather, I am here to answer to what I was put here to do, and that is to answer to customers. Not the other people who are working, but to the customers who come into my Burger King. Why, God? Why have you done this to me? There's nothing here that I could have done to be better. There's nothing that I could have done that would have made me better than what I am right now. I am the best I could be. You made me what I am, so why are you punishing me to work in a Burger King? Why are you punishing me to do the thing that I am supposed to do? I did the best I could do at Burger King. So what do I have to do to be good enough?
"There is something that I need to do." I thought to myself. I need to work. There is something that I need to do. I need to work. There is something that I need to do. I need to work. The Goddess made me and only her. So then why is she making me do this? She made me, so why am I being forced to do this? Is she so angry at me? Is she so upset with me? Why is she making me do this?
The thing I hate the most is the grease - The grease is a pulsating pile of filth, which only the most masochistic would ever dare touch with bare hands. Slimy, filthy grease that sticks to the palm and fingers. A slick of grease that you would be better off cleaning off a mirror. A greasy paste that is thick and thick and thick. And yet you need to apply it to the buns, because otherwise the burgers would taste horrible. You need to get as much of it as possible on the buns, so that when you place them on the grill, they will cook all the way through and form the bun. You need to grease up your hands to get this grease all over the buns, and yet the grease drips down your hand and gets all over the counter, making a sticky mess. Then you need to scrape the grease off your counter top with your fingers. You need to put it back in the container. After all, this is Burger King. The grease is what makes you guys who you are, this is why you are a Burger King - the grease, the grease, and then the grease again.
I'm a glass half full kind of guy, but when it comes to the grease, I've always been a glass half empty kind of guy. My Burger King has always been a half empty kind of restaurant. There are only a few things that make you feel good when you come in here.
First off, the fries are fantastic. So fresh, and so perfectly cooked. Every time that I come in here and place my order, I want to order a third of a bucket, and then a second bucket and then a third bucket. My Burger King doesn't carry many of the food choices that are out there. There's just a few things that Burger King can be known for - for us, the fries are one of them. The fries are fresh. They are cooked well. The fries are crispy. They are all-American. All-American is what I like. I like America.
But that's not all. The other day, I got the grilled cheese sandwich for lunch. The grilled cheese sandwich tastes like a cross between a grilled cheese sandwich, and a hamburger. The cheese is melted on the inside, but is crispy on the outside. I love it. I love the burger and the fries, and I love the grilled cheese sandwich. The grilled cheese sandwich is like everything that is in my Burger King - the burger, the fries, and the cheese. Everything here, you can find out there. My Burger King is the sandwich that everyone else is trying to make.
If you are looking for a burger, you will not find one in here. You will find fries. You will find cheeseburgers and grilled cheese sandwiches. You won't find any other things. There are only a few things here in Burger King - hamburgers, fries, and cheeseburgers. You come here to eat - you come here to eat burgers. And I would much rather sell you one burger, and be able to call it good. That is my Burger King. I am not good at selling sandwiches, or anything else for that matter, but the burgers, they sell themselves.
I just don't know what it is. Why am I being forced to work in Burger King? I'm just doing my best at it. I'm just doing what I'm supposed to do.
The other day, I saw a little boy in here. I don't know how old he was, but he was a little bit bigger than me, and he was wearing big kid shoes. He was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, and a hat, and his hair was messy. His hair was not just messy, it was sticking up. It was sticking up like a dog. The boy was about two feet away from me, and yet it seemed like he could see me, and I could see him, and he wasn't looking away. He just kept staring at me. I felt like he knew me, and he wanted to know me. I felt like we had something in common. I felt like he was there just to see me. The boy just sat there and stared at me. He must have sat there for about twenty minutes before he took off. Why did he stare at me like that? It's not like I wanted to stare back. It was like he was waiting for me to talk to him. Why was he staring at me like that? He just wanted to talk to me, but he had no idea what to say to me, or how to say it.
I don't know what I'm saying, I'm just trying to describe things to you. I don't know what I'm saying. I'm just trying to explain.
The boy and I had a connection. There was something there that was different about us. Something about us that made me feel like I understood him, and he was understanding me. It was like we were connected to each other. He just wanted to talk to me, but he couldn't. I didn't have anything to say to him. It was just the two of us, and it was like I could understand what he was thinking. It was like we had something in common. He didn't know anything about me. There was something about him that I wanted to see more of, but I couldn't. There was something about the boy that was there, but not there. I could see his eyes, but I couldn't see his heart. There was something there that I was looking for, and I couldn't see it. He was only about two feet away, but he felt so far away.
My Burger King is like this little boy. His hair stuck up. His eyes look like he is staring at you. And then he takes off. He had nothing to say to me. He couldn't say a word. He must have wanted to say something, but he couldn't. The boy was here, and then he was gone. The boy wanted to be here, and then he was gone. He wanted to be close to me, but then he was gone. There was something in him that I wanted to see, but I couldn't. He was there, but he was gone. There was something in his eyes that I wanted to see, but I couldn't. I needed to look, but I couldn't. I needed to see his heart, but I couldn't.
The Burger King has always been a two-faced place. If you're in the mood to eat some burgers and fries, you come here. If you're in the mood to eat sandwiches, and bread, and some salads, you come here. If you're in the mood to eat some burgers and fries, you come here. If you're in the mood to eat some sandwiches, and bread, and some salads, you come here. It is all about the burgers and fries. If you are hungry, and you want a burger and a French fry, you come here. You will find out the answer to the question that you have been asking yourself.
I've seen all the commercials, and read the articles. I've watched all of the documentaries, and seen the music videos. I know everything about Burger King, because Burger King told me. Burger King told me everything about Burger King. I read their magazines. I read their press releases. I listened to their music. I saw all of their commercials, and I even saw their videos.
Burger King has given me so many of their products, that I am like some sort of walking, talking, breathing product launch. Burger King made me, and only Burger King can make me stop. Burger King tells me everything that I need to know. All I have to do is sit and read it, and then repeat it. My Burger King is just like Burger King. Burger King gave me the burger. They gave me fries. They gave me the grilled cheese. They gave me a job. They are the ones that made me this way. My Burger King is Burger King.
I used to make fun of Burger King when they came to our school. Now that they have come to our school, I'm a lot more impressed with what they do. I don't just sit around eating burgers and fries all day. They do more than that, they teach me. Burger King made me, and only Burger King can make me stop. I've seen how good Burger King's fries are. I've tasted them for myself. They are fantastic. The fries are crispy. They are fresh. They are great. Burger King has the best fries. They always have the best fries. No one has the best fries. No one else has ever tasted the fries that Burger King makes. No one else has ever seen the fries that Burger King makes. I'm a walking, talking, breathing, commercial. My Burger King has no commercials, because Burger King doesn't have commercials. It is all about the burgers and fries.