Monday, May 23, 2011

Burger Monthly: The Thrill Is Gone

As I stabbed the flappy cheeseburger directly into my facial port, my sense of "being" and "togetherness" began to slowly fade away. I no longer derived any joy or pleasure from the oral jam, only a sense of detachment as the bun contorted and tore around the borders of my food sewer.

With my eyes half closed, I pictured my dismal, flickering existence and how I'm known around town as "Burger Terry." The name was given to me because I, along with everyone else in my family, bulldoze multiple burgers per day. Being a burger dumpster used to bring me an exotic sensation and a trembling joy deep in my groin, but now I feel only emptiness. And it's all because I killed my aunt by eating her burger that would've saved her life.

My aunt, Clort Floop, was in the emergency ward of the local hospital, suffering from "Burger's St. Wort," a terrible beef affliction. Like me, she only ate burgers, so the doctor had to deliver her every treatment through the medium of fresh, wet hamburgers. The doctor needed to give her spinal fluid so he injected it into a double cheeseburger "Fresh X-Treme" from Groper's BUR-GUR Kingdom and passed it to her to ingest. But before she could eat it, I snatched it out her moistened fingertips and drove it down my funnel with two fingers. Aunt Clort screamed in wretched agony and died instantly.

It took me only seconds to realize what I'd done. My desire for sweet, oily brownmeat had driven me to commit a terrible act. But the worst thing was, it hadn't been the first time. I wish to repent for these crimes so I can once again go back to the sensual burger life I once enjoyed.


December 25th, 1976: My first burger crime was committed at a family Christmas gathering where I stole a baby bottle full of burger milk from my young cousin.

March 31st, 1994: I went and saw Jurassic Park in the movie theaters and when my mom wasn't looking, I shoved my burger down the front of my Lee Denim jeans and rubbed it on my fur pile.

May 24th, 2005: I grabbed a fresh "Cheese Max" Supreme triple stack from a young boy on his bicycle and rammed it down my funnel before he could take it back. Then I kicked him into the road and stepped on his leg to prevent him from calling the police.

August 6th, 2009: During a full moon, I ripped open a fast food dumpster and found two homeless people making love. I pried them apart long enough to grab a moist handful of expired green burger meat to pound down my digestive tube.

I am sorry.

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