This article was originally published as part of the joke issue on 12.5.2013
50 Nuggets. 30 Minutes. Let’s Do This.
5:33 p.m.: Walk to McDonald’s. Is it sad this isn’t my first time here today?
5:34 p.m.: “You want 50?” Did I fucking stutter, bitch?
5:35 p.m.: No, I only want Sweet ‘n Sour sauce. I don’t trifle with Honey Mustard. Oh, and a large Coke.
5:40 p.m.: Sit down at a booth and lay out all the sauces and nuggets. Preparation is half the work.
5:41 p.m.: “Are you really going to eat all these right here?” I’m sure as hell going to try.
5:42 p.m.: Start the timer, here we go. First ten in four minutes, this is a piece of cake.
5:46 p.m.: Reach 14 before I even need to take a sip of my drink. I got this.
5:47 p.m.: I could have probably found someone on Craigslist who’s into watching people eat a lot of food. I could have profited from this. Eh, too late.
5:50 p.m.: Slow down around 21. I lied; preparation is not half the work. Chewing is half the work. Chewing is all the work.
5:59 p.m.: Perpetual dry mouth sets in at number 25. Half of the Coke is gone.
6:03 p.m.: Spit number 28 into the bag. There’s no turning back now. I’ve made a huge mistake.
6:05 p.m.: Open stares from the lady with kids next to me. Stay in school little ones, this could be you in 15 years.
6:08 p.m.: Gag on number 33. Why did I choose this life? Nobody deserves this.
6:09 p.m.: Realize I only have three minutes left. Start double fisting.
6:10 p.m.: Time as a concept has been erased. Everything is gone. There is only nugget.
6:11 p.m.: Number 36 goes into the bag too, half–chewed. Holding back the vomit.
6:12 p.m.: Tap out at 38. I’m going to die here. This is how I die.
6:15 p.m.: Throw up.
6:15 p.m.: Actually.
6:16 p.m.: I’d say this was a new low point in my life, but it’s not the first time I’ve thrown up at McDonald’s. Although it's the first time sober.
6:18 p.m.: Walk home. Feel disgusting. Take a shower. At least I have 12 nuggets left for later.
