A Hamburger's Journey

“I’m freezing.” Said the one to my left.

              ‘We’re all freezing.” Said the one to my right.

              “Do we have to talk about this again?” I say.

One of them at the bottom says “The worst is over. They fed us into a machine and shaped us into patties. Then, they stuffed us all into a cramped little box and did god-knows what else with it. How much worse could it possibly get?”

              “You don’t know what’s out there, man! We could be anywhere!” said Righty. “We could be in the middle of the ocean!”

              “What’s the ocean?” asked Lefty.

              We all laughed.

              “Look,” said Bottom. “It could be a lot worse. We could be dead meat.”

              “We ARE dead meat!” most of us shouted in unison.

Then a whooshing sound, and footsteps. I hear voices coming from outside the box. A thud. A sliding noise. We’re moving. We’re moving! We’re about to be freed from this maddening darkness!

“Yay!” I hear another say from several layers under me.

I don’t know what’s happening exactly, but something’s definitely about to transpire. Several long seconds pass as we make our journey from wherever we just were to wherever we’re about to be. Then, a tearing sound. Someone is opening our box. Daylight. At last.

              A pimple-faced teenager looks down at us. The first friendly face we’ve seen in days, or possibly weeks. I’ve never seen him before, but I’m glad to see him. The warm air hits us all…all of us on the top layer, anyway. Ahh, what a relief.

              “Hm. Smells like potatoes.” Said Lefty.

              “How do you know what potatoes smell like?” I asked.

              “The man in the straw hat used to grow them!” he said.

              “Hurry up!” I heard a tense voice yell. “How much time on the fries?”

              “Sorry, Mr. Louis.” Said zit-face.

              The boy reaches into our box, grabbing lefty, righty, myself, and several others. We’ve been saved! But where is our savior taking us? No doubt to a wonderful, joyous place where we can be happy and free from the oppressive cell that was the box. Oh, thank you, kind zit-faced teenager! Thank you for rescuing myself and my fellows!

              Suddenly, our acne stricken savior stumbles and I find myself falling, along with another of my fellow travelers. I watch in horror as my fellows grow further and further from me. My companion and I plummet towards the earth. Then, with a resounding “SMACK!” we hit the floor.

              “No!!” I cry. “Come back for us!”

              From this angle, I cannot see where he is taking my friends, nor do I want to. As I try to adjust to me new life on the floor, I hear the faint screams of my brothers over a loud sizzling noise. Great mother of God. What just happened to them? Suddenly, my surroundings become clear to me. I don’t know what this place is, but it looks like they’re preparing my friends for some sort of fancy occasion. They’re being dressed up in lavish costumes, most articles of which appear foreign to me.

              After a couple of minutes in my new home, I see lefty reappear across the room, being carried by a strange, flat metal device. Where are they taking him now? It appears they’re about to do him the honor of preparing him for the fancy occasion. Lettuce, tomatoes, and onions I recognize, but it appears they’re being cut into small pieces. After that, the rest of Lefty’s new wardrobe looks new and exciting to me.

I heard the tense voice again. “Those are no good, get em’ off the floor.”             

The zit faced teenager returned to our floor and picked up my brother and I. “Sorry guys.” He said in a weasely voice. “We can’t use you.”

He proceeded to walk further and further from my lavish costumed cohorts.

“No! Where are you taking us?” I want to be fancy! I want to be fancy!” I said, fighting back tears.

Again, we fall from zit-face’s hand, but this time I’m watching a terribly messy, disorganized, smelly place barreling towards me. When we land, I realize my new home is some sort of receptacle for unwanted things like myself. I begin to weep.

“At least we still have each other.” My friend said to me.

So began my incredibly journey to an exotic place a lot smellier than this. I don’t think I’ll ever be fancy, now.