“Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”
- Yoda
They say you are what you eat, and if the Whopper is angry, then by the associative property, I am angry as well. Anger gets you to be the baddest ass of all bad guys/magicians/dudes with special powers. Once I join the Dark Side I'll be having Jedi lightening battles with Darth Rory, collecting Light sabers and shit and choking old British dudes with the raise of an eye brow. I'm on my way to being a heartless, intergalactic tyrant if I start with with the Angry Whopper. I realized all of this today at work, in between sorting 3 months worth of register receipts, reading online message boards about Metal Gear and getting pissed at people for stealing all my pens. After my Angry Whopper, no more would any one fuck with my private Paper Mate draw, I'd force choke or launch a trash can at them or use Jedi mind tricks to convince them my pens were not the pens they were looking for.
I clocked out of work and embarked on a journey to the local Burger King. I hopped in my trusty sky blue, dented, early model,sensible,fuel efficient,not so flashy, Japanese imported sedan, and pondered if I did become angry and evil enough to roll with Darth Vader, would I trade this bitch in for a sweet jet fighter with lasers and shit. I arrived to Burger King just as I finished rocking the fuck out to "Love Song" by Sara Bareilles \m/. My hands are still sore from pounding the steering wheel like a drum set.
Burger King #01302 was the start of my quest for intergalactic superiority and honing my anger. 259 Cochituate Rd Framingham. I arrive to a smiling jovial face. I never picked up the woman's name. The poor woman was unaware of the utter evil she was facilitating. I placed my order "one large ANGRY WHOPPER combo meal!" I demanded. I was asked to pay $8.18. I presented my legal tender, and was handed my change and receipt stating my order was order #7. I filled up my large cup with Diet Coke and looked over the dining room. It was a deluge of people, young and old all present to take part of the Angry Whopper, Double stacker, and other Burger King treats and novelties. I was nervous I was going to have to take my meal to my rusty sky blue, dented, early model,sensible,fuel efficient,not so flashy, Japanese imported sedan. I then did some of the Jedi mind trick shit I've been working on and the dining room emptied. I chose my seat. For historical purposes I document my seat.
Number 7 was then called, and my order was presented. One tray, one order of fries, one Angry Whopper. I was in for a big surprise that was for sure. 
I was about to experience one of the most terrifying things ever......
I clocked out of work and embarked on a journey to the local Burger King. I hopped in my trusty sky blue, dented, early model,sensible,fuel efficient,not so flashy, Japanese imported sedan, and pondered if I did become angry and evil enough to roll with Darth Vader, would I trade this bitch in for a sweet jet fighter with lasers and shit. I arrived to Burger King just as I finished rocking the fuck out to "Love Song" by Sara Bareilles \m/. My hands are still sore from pounding the steering wheel like a drum set.
Burger King #01302 was the start of my quest for intergalactic superiority and honing my anger. 259 Cochituate Rd Framingham. I arrive to a smiling jovial face. I never picked up the woman's name. The poor woman was unaware of the utter evil she was facilitating. I placed my order "one large ANGRY WHOPPER combo meal!" I demanded. I was asked to pay $8.18. I presented my legal tender, and was handed my change and receipt stating my order was order #7. I filled up my large cup with Diet Coke and looked over the dining room. It was a deluge of people, young and old all present to take part of the Angry Whopper, Double stacker, and other Burger King treats and novelties. I was nervous I was going to have to take my meal to my rusty sky blue, dented, early model,sensible,fuel efficient,not so flashy, Japanese imported sedan. I then did some of the Jedi mind trick shit I've been working on and the dining room emptied. I chose my seat. For historical purposes I document my seat.
Number 7 was then called, and my order was presented. One tray, one order of fries, one Angry Whopper. I was in for a big surprise that was for sure. 
I was about to experience one of the most terrifying things ever......
Hatred Burger
I unwrapped the Angry Whopper and felt like I was in an episode
of Quantum Leap in a 1940s death camp. I experienced a life time of fear. I felt my life was about to end. I was afraid of the visions that would haunt me until my pending end. Jalapenos burned my mouth, similar to how vikings would burn villages. I could get no relief. I took a sip of my Diet Coke and felt betrayed by its ineffectiveness. My mouth was still burning. The tangy onions took me for a naive fool. I figured onion rings are always a safe bet. An aromatic treat, not these onions. They were born of Hell. The Jalapeno sauce raged fury on my taste buds. I was growing increasingly fearful until I became so frustrated, so helpless my fear turned to anger.
I figured the only way to stop by fear was to banish this Angry Whopper from existence. I took a second bite out of anger...and because the bacon was good too. I was determined to not let this hatred burger strike me down. I took more bites. I drank more soda. I was in a blind frenzy of anger. It was like Friday the 13th part IV : The Final Chapter. Tommy Jarvis shaves his head, then goes down stairs and starts hacking at Jason and repeatedly hacking and saying "Die!, Die!, Die!, Die!" I begin to Hate Eat this burger. I chanted the mantra of "EAT! EAT! EAT!" in my head with every crushing motion of my jaw. I let some onion rings suffer on the wrapper. 
How ever it does get lost in the mixing and melding of all the other flavors, the beef, the bacon, the cheese, onion rings etc. This would be a proper hatred propaganda burger at a chain restaurant for $10 with some better fries.
I clean my tray, refill my cup and leave. I'm no Jedi yet. I contemplated the events that have transpired. The fear, anger, hatred and suffering I have experienced and the exacerbated mastication that caused all it. I got into my rusty sky blue, dented, early model,sensible,fuel efficient,not so flashy, Japanese imported sedan and rode off into the sunset leaving in wake my first lesson in Dark Jedi training.
Later on I did stop at Office Max. It was desolate. One (1) cashier, and one (1) person on the sales floor, and I (me) were the only ones (3) in the store. I was there on work related business. To make one (1) $0.08 cent copy. I approached the photo copy area and discovered I needed a key/swipe card to operate the photocopiers and make my one (1) photo copy. I approached one (1) the gentle, downtrodden old soul at the one (1) cash register and asked if he could make one (1) copy for me with out me having to go through the trouble of creating a key card to use the photocopier for one (1) copy. He informed me that there would be zero (o) problem and asked if I could hold on one (1) minute for my one (1) photocopy to be made. I was willing to wait one (1) minute possibly more (2-∞) . He paged the one (1) other sales associate in the store to make the one (1) photo copy. The young girl with the tired,defeated eyes of a refugee who has lost everything, even the will to live approaches the copy center, takes my one (1) sheet and makes one (1) copy as the one (1) cashier rings me up $0.08 for one (1) photocopy. I hand him a dime ($0.10) and he hands me back two (2) pennies. I feel guilty being the only one (1) in the store shopping and browse around. I find two (2) boxes of pens. Each one (1) box of pens has twelve (12) pens. I purchase two (2) for $1.00 each. The one (1) cashier rings up my purchase and my grand total comes to $2.10. I hand the cashier two (2) one (1) dollar bills and one (1) dime . I take my two (2) boxes of twelve (12) pens each and wish the one (1) man at the register and the one (1) sales associate on the floor to have a goodnight and proceed to my trusty sky blue, dented, early model,sensible,fuel efficient,not so flashy, Japanese imported sedan satisfied with my abundance of pens , which my soon to be acquired Jedi lightening skills will protect from would be pen theives. Approximate fours (4) hours late I face the vengence of the Angry Whopper and I soon find out suffering. The Angry Whopper haunts my mind with the stern statement "When I left you, I was but a learner. But, Now, I am the master." I make a break for the bath room at work and I feel less angry. Then I fear more suffering when I discover....
How I get my self out of this situation is a long, sordid tale of cunning, resourcefulness, interpersonal communications, trigonometry and diversity. Much much more than I could ever explore in the remainder of this post, but will be left for a future post.
of Quantum Leap in a 1940s death camp. I experienced a life time of fear. I felt my life was about to end. I was afraid of the visions that would haunt me until my pending end. Jalapenos burned my mouth, similar to how vikings would burn villages. I could get no relief. I took a sip of my Diet Coke and felt betrayed by its ineffectiveness. My mouth was still burning. The tangy onions took me for a naive fool. I figured onion rings are always a safe bet. An aromatic treat, not these onions. They were born of Hell. The Jalapeno sauce raged fury on my taste buds. I was growing increasingly fearful until I became so frustrated, so helpless my fear turned to anger.
I figured the only way to stop by fear was to banish this Angry Whopper from existence. I took a second bite out of anger...and because the bacon was good too. I was determined to not let this hatred burger strike me down. I took more bites. I drank more soda. I was in a blind frenzy of anger. It was like Friday the 13th part IV : The Final Chapter. Tommy Jarvis shaves his head, then goes down stairs and starts hacking at Jason and repeatedly hacking and saying "Die!, Die!, Die!, Die!" I begin to Hate Eat this burger. I chanted the mantra of "EAT! EAT! EAT!" in my head with every crushing motion of my jaw. I let some onion rings suffer on the wrapper. 
I turned on my Frypod video.
. Then cranked "Addicted to spuds" I enjoyed this burger. I let out an menacing laugh as I contemplated the burger. I was angry enough to push a toddler down some stairs, go to Toys R Us rip a Barbie out of a little girls hand and drop kick it across the store then give her mom a roundhouse, steal her mini-van, rob a bank, use all the money to pay for hookers with aids to go around and have unprotected sex with just about any one I graduated high school with. $8.18 for a pretty dense burger, fries and a soda at Burger King. Mildly spicy/hot. If you get a Jalapeno by it self in a bite, or with a little of the sauce or a tomato or something you do feel the spiciness of the Jalapeno.
How ever it does get lost in the mixing and melding of all the other flavors, the beef, the bacon, the cheese, onion rings etc. This would be a proper hatred propaganda burger at a chain restaurant for $10 with some better fries.
I clean my tray, refill my cup and leave. I'm no Jedi yet. I contemplated the events that have transpired. The fear, anger, hatred and suffering I have experienced and the exacerbated mastication that caused all it. I got into my rusty sky blue, dented, early model,sensible,fuel efficient,not so flashy, Japanese imported sedan and rode off into the sunset leaving in wake my first lesson in Dark Jedi training.
How I get my self out of this situation is a long, sordid tale of cunning, resourcefulness, interpersonal communications, trigonometry and diversity. Much much more than I could ever explore in the remainder of this post, but will be left for a future post.
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