Derryn

Derryn found the world a particularly confusing place. There were so many things that he didn't understand.

Why did Hamburgers deserve to be a variety of food all their own, after all it's just a sandwich with meat in it?

At what point does bread that's rolled flat and has cheese on it become Pizza?

What do they make Cola from?

Exactly what diameter is required for a chip to no longer be a chip, and become a French Fry? For that matter, what parts of the U.S. is it still not appropriate to call them French Fries?

Why are takeaway joints all going for drive-thru service as petrol stations cease drive-thru service? Could we not combine the two enterprises and have the best of both worlds? Derryn dreamed of drive thru burgers and fuel!

Derryn was a troubled individual. So many of the oddities, contradictions and ambiguities of the world plagued his mind. That's why Derryn was mad. Not angry. Actually completely barking, mad-as-a-brush, loonie-bin material of the highest order. Derryn was shitting nuts! This meant nothing to him, but it was about to become all too apparent to the greasy-haired, pimply 15 year-old manning the drive-thru service booth of Super Burger, as Derryn approached the speaker box in the driveway in his tiny, rusting, two-door crazy-mobile.

"Hi, welcome to Super Burger, how may I help you?"

"Yeah, you can help me, for sure."

"How may I help you Sir?"

"Yeah, right. So what's the difference between the Chicken Burger, and the Bacon Chicken Burger?"

"The Bacon Sir"

"Good, just checking."

There was a slight pause, while Derryn fumbled around the console of his car for some change, before returning his attention to the blue plastic box with the speaker in it.

"Chickens and Pigs don't really get on you see."

"Um..."

"Ever seen Chickens and Pigs in the same part of the farm? I Haven't and that's because they don't see eye-to-eye. They can't, in fact, see eye-to-eye"

"What would you like to order Sir?" came the perplexed, but patient reply from the other end of the cable.

"Well, certainly not the avian-porcine combination. Pigs and Chickens?"

"Sir?"

"Yeah, right, yeah."

"What about the Fried Chicken Burger, is that any good?

"I like it Sir"

"No pigs involved then? Because pigs and..."

"No sir, no, er... pigs"

"Good, then I'll have a large Freedom Fries"

A short wince could be heard from the speaker before the usual customer-service attitude was resumed.

"A large French Fries sir?"

"French Fries?"

"Yes Sir, French Fries are the same as Freedom Fries, they're both fried strips of potato."

"I think you'll find potatoes are Irish my young man."

"I know, but.."

"Do you believe in Leprechauns. I met a Leprechaun once, he didn't have a pot of gold at all. Didn't have any pants either, in fact he might have done well to have pants, that way it would've been harder for him to fling his Leprechaun dung at me. Did you know Leprechauns think that's an acceptable source of amusement? Dung flinging? They laughed at me with their big grinning hairy irish heads, I've never..."

"Sir, are you sure they weren't monkeys?"

"I KNOW THE DIFFERECE BETWEEN AN IRISHMAN AND A MONKEY DAMMIT! DO YOU THINK I'M STUPID?"

The sounds of inner conflict, followed by ultimate self control came back down the drive-thru communication system, with just three words.

"I'm sorry Sir"

Followed by.

"Now, would you care to order anything for yourself this evening?

"Iguanas!"

"They were near the Leprechaun you know. Imagine that, South American lizards in the same place as hairy Irishmen?"

"I..."

"I suspect they were speed-dating"

"Whu?"

"Well anyway, unfortunately we must cease this wonderfully intellectual banter, and get to down to business."

"Yes, thankyou Sir"

"Just twenty dollars worth of unleaded please."

Quick on the uptake this time, the response came with accompanied with a sigh.

"This isn't a Petrol Station Sir. It's Super Burger"

"HAND WASH BUT WHY NOT FOOT WASH?!"

There was a rustling sound from the other end of the intercom, some whispering, then the voice was suddenly replaced by one with an older and more stern timbre.

"This is the Manager speaking. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to please order something from our menu immediately, or I will be forced to call the Police."

By this time a line of cars and buses had formed behind Derryn, and snaked their way out of the driveway and back down the street. There was the occasional beep from behind, but mostly people were content to sit and look fierce and impatient, like they were prepared to form an angry mob at a moments notice. Derry, however, was oblivious to them and proceeded to fumble with the loose change he'd accumulated earlier.

And again, returning to have-a-nice-day-mode, the diaphragm of the speaker send forth a further enquiry.

"Now Sir, may I take your order?"

Derryn gave the speaker-box a quick glance, and appeared to ponder the question.

"Order? I'm sick of orders! All I ever hear are orders!"

"Sir, this is my final warning!"

Derryn looked at the line of cars behind him, and then at the menu board, his eyes flicked about the board and returned to the speaker.

"I'd like one Super Burger please."

"Ah, yes sir, will that be all?" Came the almost triumphant but ultimately very relieved response from inside the burger joint.

"That's all thankyou, just one Super Burger. Hold the Sesame Seeds."

"Sorry Sir, I didn't catch that. Hold the what?"

"Sesame Seeds. They get stuck on the way down. Pointless decorative little things they are. Very fancy I'll agree, but so very much a waste of my time having to pick them off!"

"Sir, we cannot remove the Sesame seeds from the bun."

"Of course you can, I always do. I find it's easier if you lick them off. Did I mention how they get stuck? Terrible little things, I don't understand the need for them. Sesame Seeds?..."

"Sir, we cannot do that. You can have the burger as it is, or order something else. Failing that please vacate the drive-thru, or, and this is my final warning, I'll be forced to call the police."

"Can you tell me how to get?"

"Sorry, get what?"

"Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Seeds?"

"Right, that's it!"

"Sunny days, sweeping our clouds away"

The singing continued for a while, and at quite a volume, to the back-beat of beeping from the line of cars behind the now fully-engrossed Derryn, who went on for nearly a full ten minutes, singing the Sesame Street theme over and over again. By the time the police arrived, entering the drive-thru against the flow of traffic in a large blue and white van, the language emanating from the line behind Derryn had begun to sound like there was a Touretts group meeting going on.

From the van, came two Police officers, in almost full riot regalia. They wore helmets, body armour and brandished large batons. All that was missing was the riot shields. The sight of these battle-ready troopers quickly silenced the noise coming from the line of cars. Some even left, while a few braver souls got out of their car to investigate further and began to form a small crowd of onlookers, including the pimply-faced driveway attendant, and the store manager.

The police were accompanied by a man in a white lab-coat, and all three approached Derryn cautiously, particularly the police, who appeared to be ready for just about anything. The gentleman in the lab-coat, an older man, balding with glasses and the complexion of an indoors-man wore a concerned look on his face. He approached Derryn carefully, calling his name just once, with the the caring tones of a parent, and the concern in his eyes to match. Derryn responded:

"Sesame Seeds. Pigs and Chickens! Would I like some meat with my meat? I don't think so!"

Derryn was out of his car, facing the man in white, who was approaching slowly. As he approached he stepped on an empty cardboard drink container, which crumpled, but seemed to catch Derryns complete attention for a few seconds, after which he leapt onto the roof of his car with such energy that the metal of the roof became concave underfoot. Derryns head spun around to face the crowd.

"Come out you little hairy dung-flinger! I know you're there somewhere! I can hear you laughing! I can hear you! I can... get to Sesame Street..."

Derryns voice had become laboured, and interspersed with grinding sounds. Each word was clearly an effort, and it had become plain to all that the tension which had been building inside Derryn was reaching it's fever pitch. Many of the crowd began to back away as Derryns words completely gave way to a series of grinding noises. The policemen, who now stood one each side of the car, had themselves begun to appear anxious. One of them reached out towards Derryn, who noticed his hand immediately.

"No, dont!" came the should from the coat-wearing boffin.

It was too late, Derryn had seen all he needed to, and putting on a turn of speed beyond belief, leapt from the car roof, and like a blur was down the driveway past the police van before either the police, or anyone else for that matter, knew what was going on.

Derryn was now standing in the street, he'd covered nearly a hundered metres in less than two seconds. No sooner had anyone noticed where he was, and that he was looking back toward them, red and shaking violently, that he exploded. His final crazy-eyed gaze back toward the crowd lasted a split second before he became a massive fiery cloud of dust, flame and debris.

Some of the quicker members of the mob in the drive-thru had reacted and shielded themselves, the others just looked on, stunned as they were showered with a mixture of dust, body parts, fluids and curiously, shards of metal and the occasional bolt, screw or spring. But yet more curiously was that which lay at the feet of Super Burgers' two employees, a charred piece of metal, originally silver on one side, and skin-coloured on the other. The young driveway attendant picked it up and turned it in his hands to show the silver side where he read aloud the words printed across it. "Derryn 0.9 beta".