Have It Your Way

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This is a fictional joke story written by DaveTheUseless. Don't take it seriously, fellas.



All my life, there's been one thing that I wanted more than anything else. Not immortality, not unconditional love, not a pony or a copy of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 576,000 million zillion... but all I wanted was free stuff. In general. I didn't care what it was.

My first girlfriend offered me free sex. I didn't need to buy roses or chocolates, and I didn't even know her name. She wanted to fuck me, and guess what? She had free edible underpants for me to eat off of her, so I was all in on that. My parents bought me a free car for high school graduation, and although it didn't run on gas and I had to pat the road with my feet to produce power to move it, again... free stuff! Ah, life was grand. Then I voted for Obama.

That night, when I walked home from the voting place, something strange happened. I was walking past Goodwill, where I buy all my clothes, and humming Night Ranger tunes to myself. Fitting, because it was nighttime and I had no plan on going to sleep anytime soon. But that was the last kind thought I had about it being night, that night! As the light of the goodwill sign faded, I took a turn into the grassy meadow and past some bushes, where I heard a rustling. At first, the vocal melody to "Sister Christian" flooded out any sound that whoever or whatever it was could be making, but I saw it, and I was wearing my thick-rimmed Buddy Holly glasses. Even the lack of the Goodwill light couldn't blind me from...

... from what I saw.

No, it wasn't a squirrel, or a homeless man, or my first girlfriend asking for more sex. At first... at first, I saw a crown poke out, and then, what appeared to be a plastic Halloween costume of a king. He had a gigantic smile on his face, and other than that his hair was curled up, he resembled a caricature of the Lord Almighty Himself.

At first, I thought this had to be a high schooler trying to play a prank, so I shrugged it off and went on my way. But then, I felt his cold hand on my back. Whoever he was, he wanted something from me... and he wasn't going to wait for my approval.

Half-expecting a hard plastic cock with glued-on pubic hair to go thrusting into my backside, I instead was greeted by a bag.

A bag with the Burger King logo on it.

At that point... I was scared. I considered running away, but his hand was still on me and I was too shocked to thrust it away. I figured that all the guy really wanted was for me to take the bag, so I did: and inside, was a Burger King whopper. And just the way I liked it! Two patties (it was a Double Whopper), no mayo, delicious, crunchy pickle slices, and the cheese and condiments were out of this world! It was still warm, too! I could only assume that he had visited the local Burger King recently and that this man was, indeed, the Burger King himself. I thanked him, and he bowed. His back side was also covered in the plastic king Halloween costume, so I couldn't identify him by any of his natural physical features. I offered him a dollar, and he waved me off.

What a guy! I didn't even have to buy dinner that night, though I did drink out of the tap of my sink to wash down the cheesy, beefy goodness. I wondered if I'd ever see this man again, and if so, if he'd tell me who he was and why he did what he did. Maybe he was just a Good Samaritan, but I felt like I had to know. Even if I never would.

I tried searching the Internet for local news, querying such search engines as Google, Yahoo!, and Ifindit. I found nothing. I tried PMing my Facebook friends about whether they had ever heard of something like this happening before, and the closest thing I find out was that my second girlfriend, Peprika, had a secret fetish for fast food mascots and would have some of her other loves dress up as Ronald MacDonald, the Burger King, Harold and Kumar, and even Wendy from Wendy's. This was quite disturbing, and at this point, I was so exhausted from the experience and my research that I was ready for bed after all. I turned off my Mr. Banana lamp and tucked myself in for the night.

When I woke up... I was scared.

Have you ever heard of sleep paralysis? It sometimes happens when you're almost awake and not totally asleep. You see or think or hear scary things that are figments of your imagination, like a yeti on rollerskates or a guy whose head is replaced by a black hole void.

At first, that's what I thought happened to me. I thought that the wide eyes, curly hair, and plastic crown must have just been a nightmare erected from that night's experience. But instead, it was actually... quite, quite real.

Look. I know that you want pics, and I'm not going to do that. Instead, I'm going to not spare you all of the details. About a half an hour later, my backside was sore and bleeding, because something that felt like a cross between a happy meal toy and a spike from a Super Mario Bros. retro video game had been stuck, up my ass. Pulled in and out. Again, and again. And all I could hear was a muffled, Darth Vader kind of voice. "Not all good things in life are free, Bernard."

Not only did he follow me home, but he somehow knew my name. This would explain why I no longer have my Driver's License, so even if I powered my car courtesy of my own two feet, I'd get stopped by a police officer for unlicensed driving.

Try as I might, I can't stop thinking of him, and how much I sacrificed in the name of one juicy and greasy, even if delicious, fast food hamburger.

About a month later, I turned on the TV. I had a towel stuffed inside of my asshole, and the bleeding had stopped by then, though I still felt uncomfortable. I told my proctologist that I worked at a factory, and a disgruntled ex-employee came back and threw me in the shredder. Of course, if that actually happened, my entire body would've been ground into hamburger meat, but my doctor had never worked at a food processing place before, so he had no way of knowing the shocking truth.

For some reason, dancing kept showing up in the television I had been watching. I changed the channel to a remake of Dirty Dancing starring Burt Reynolds. I was done watching Dancing with the Stars. A guy who looked an awful lot like Al Borland from Home Improvement was dancing with a woman who looked like a cross between Peggy Bundy from Married With Children and a female version of 'Hollywood' Hulk Hogan.

"We interrupt this broadcast to bring you a special news bulletin! Tonight, Fox News has learned that a former television star, known for his dancing on a popular 1990s American sitcom, has been discovered luring the lonely and gullible with fast food before following them home to their apartments and mutilating them with deadly instruments!"

The newsanchor stopped and looked directly into my eyes, as if staring directly into my soul.

"In... their... asses."

I shrieked in horror, but no one was there to hear me. Maybe a few days later, I finally calmed down. I was tired, starving, and dying of thirst. Also, the towel had been shoved up my ass for so long that it felt like it was attaching itself to me as a dirty, bloody, musty tail.

Eugh... what a misadventure. But what else could I do? I wasn't in the mood to cook, that's for sure.

I dug through the couch cushions and found myself a few dollars in quarters. "It's never too late to have it my way.", I added, realizing that the best things in life weren't free after all.

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