|
This was written after a conversation with a friend about the future of fast food that quickly spiraled into the ridiculous. I have not written anything since college and I enjoyed writing this quite a bit, which has blinded me a bit to any lovely parts of which I'm sure there are many! A realistic appraisal of how readable it is would be great, any and all criticisms and feedback are welcome. Thanks for your time. <Recording begins> I am detective Eric Sell badge number 4078, Dayton Police Department, currently engaged as chief investigator on Operation Mellow. Present with me is Adam Burroughs, present of his own free will, to provide background information on the suspect known under the alias ‘Jimmo Monsanto’ real name currently unknown. Could you state your name for the tape please? Yo, *clearing his throat* you already did that It's procedure...sir Ok, my name is Adam Burroughs. Thank you. Could you please recant in detail for the tape how it is you came into contact with the suspect? Sure, erm, I was working down at the TV station just outside the city, y’know, the infomercial place. Just doing phone work and processing orders. Like, if some housewife liked the fold up chopping boards or the faux white gold necklaces and just had to have it at 3am it was my job to get that credit card info and pass it through to sales as quick as possible. I didn’t have the opportunities I have now, and I was just out of juvie so this kept the parole guy off my back and kept me in weed and video games for relatively little effort. The rest of the staff was pretty much like me. Well not exactly like me, not many ‘hardened criminals’ as that asshat Jeremy used to refer to me as, but y’know people who should be doing better. Not quite down and outs, like, they have jobs and stuff and maybe some of em’ had kids, ex-wives and dogs and all that crap but nobody on that graveyard shift looked like anyone you’d invite to a party. Anyone you’d ask to take care of your pet if you travelled. Definitely not dating material, regardless of preference. Everyone looked just a little bit unhinged. I’m under oath so know I’m not lying when I say you could smell the drat desperation hanging over those cubicles like smog. Mr Burroughs you are NOT under oath, this is simply a record of your background with the suspect. You aren’t on trial. Right, I know that, cool. Yeah so, like I was saying these weren’t the cool kids or whatever. This was where the kids you don’t even remember from school went to earn a living. Women who needed portable oxygen to get around, dudes with crutches and club foots. Most of em’ were on the heavy side and were into their online games way too much. Generally, people who just don’t wanna go outside and most definitely don’t want to run into anyone if they do. For me the station is like a 10 minute bike ride from the apartment my parole officer helped me get so taking the job was pretty much a given. I’m a pretty sociable guy , but most of the time they asked if I wanted to grab ‘Dinner’ , or whatever the 3am truck stop equivalent of dinner was, I’d say I had something else to do. Beers were a strict no-no for me too. Or if they were an rear end in a top hat I’d say I had to see my parole officer, just to remind em’ that I had that edge y’know.. <Mr Burroughs pauses to smoke his e-cigarette > So same deal as a few times before, harry or Larry or one of these other forgettable chain email types waddles over and asks me if I want to go to Dennys with the ‘gang’ for a grand slam breakfast to close out another ‘record day’ selling those super absorbent towel things and I decline and get back to reading whatever crap I could between calls for the last 15 or so minutes of the shift. That’s when we first spoke, just after that… Jimmo? Yeah, well he said his name was Brian then but who knows right? I DEFINITELY DON’T. I WANNA REPEAT THAT AGAIN FOR THE TAPE. I'VE HAD NO CONTACT WITH THIS MAN SIN- We understand that Sir, we do, but your insights may be important. Please be as thorough as you can. Right so Brian, he’s like wheeling himself over, if I hadn’t recognised his face Id’ve pegged him for a newbie cause he rolled right over without any respect for what I was doing to avoid talking to anybody. Just engaged. And man he was way too close to me when he spoke. His breath stank like dry cleaning fluid or something. I’d smelled it in Juvie before but couldn’t place where. He rolls his chair over to me and asks real plainly ‘You like that guy, Harold?’ I was like, man he never done me any wrong so I leave him alone all that stuff, because I still don’t know what this guys agenda is right, might be a shitstirrer or something. The guy just glances over at Harry talking to the next row in the cube farm and says “ Y’know there’s a place , a real loving place I kid you not, where dudes like him whip back huge buckets of fried poo poo?. I’m like man, this is Middle America, and buckets of fried poo poo are their bread and butter. And he leans in all serious like, “No man, I mean real buckets. Pails. Jack and Jill up the hill honest to GOD buckets of poo poo”. Buckets of Grits, plastic sacks of discarded Hamburgers, half emptied garlic mayonnaise buckets topped off with almost spoiled taco meat. Reformed chicken of all sizes shapes and conditions, heaped alongside the dregs of all you can eat buffets mixed together in a hellish stew you wouldn’t feed to your dog. And I’m like “gently caress off man, if I don’t want a Wendy’s what the hell makes you think I want to eat that?” And then he smiles, and it was weird. Infectious, I was already grinning ear to ear as he pulled the joint just enough out of his slacks pocket for me to see and say “I didn’t asked if you wanted to eat there, I asked did you want to see the spectacle.” <Drags on ecigarette again> …Well? Well gently caress what’d you think I said? We were in his car toking up inside of ten minutes and heading out of town even further on the highway, out to the rented lots near the junkyard. He seemed soft enough, I wasn’t expecting any trouble, and he sure had plenty of weed so.. Tell us about the suspect. Did he have any remarkable features? How about the car there must have been something about it, its contents? The car was just a beat up old saloon car; wooden side panels the whole shebang, inside smelled like chemical cleaners... pretty torn up. There were all these plastic jugs everywhere all empty, no labels or nothing - said he drank his protein shakes out of em’. I remember giggling a bit at that, he wasn’t as hefty as some of the work crew but he was younger, he was going that way. Bulking up might not be the best solution. So he was concerned with his weight? Well Duh, how you think he came up with the idea for those attacks? Guy was obviously working on this for a while We’re not concerned with that right now, that’s being investigated separately, just focus on the night you went to the restaurant. Restaurant, ha! If this was a restaurant then so is a feed lot. The only courtesy this had was there were tables and a food line and the stuff wasn’t just sprayed from a jet all over the place. So we’re pretty blazed and we get out the car pretty far from the building, looked like a huge hangar or something, but split up into little units like auto shops and stuff, all boarded up. He takes the lead and we walk past like, easy 50 cars, and this is like 3:30am here. Place is banging y’know, there’s a din you can hear 50 yards out from the door. 2 big guys standing there, maybe 350-400lbs and built, we saunter up and they nod at him like they do a bar regular and hold the door for us. I will never forget what I saw next for the rest of my life, you know about this place right? We have anecdotal evidence of what went on there, small amounts of the storage units used to transport the food, handful of witness statements following the first attack- <sniggering from the interviewee> WHAT? You find this case funny? No sir, none of it. But, c’mon they weren’t containers were they? That was the same thing these guys used to do. Avoid calling them anything but what they actually were. What were they? Buckets. Buckets, with handles, filled to the brim with whatever unused, uneaten or flat out unwanted food they could get. How did they get them? It wasn’t that sort of night y’know, he wasn’t looking to get me in on the whole thing, he never even let on he was part of it. Just seemed like a stoner who got the munchies one night and found this amazing, or gross, place where you pay a flat rate by the lb. and just get calories in return. See you or me, we look at 15lbs of hash browns for 20 dollars and just…balk at the whole idea. We’re grossed out, y’know. “Who the gently caress wants all of that poo poo anyway”, right? But, it was only a skip and a jump away from mega size meals, or all you can eat buffets. An arms race with Colonel Sanders. So you're in the place, what then? We took our table and I started looking for a menu but there just wasn’t one, and he started explaining how it went. They got the food from buffet services, catered events, fast food restaurants with normal business hours and semi decent food disposal policies. They bribed those minimum wage dudes or their managers into packing the waste food into these buckets instead of the trash. This stuff was zero value, couldn’t be sold. Legally. But couldn’t be flat out dumped because it encouraged the homeless to plunder the trashcans and god forbid big business give out free food right? So, there were crews in trucks paid decent money to already pick up this lovely leftover crap, and they’d been paid off to take it here instead of landfill. Later that night we saw the trucks being filled up with other bags, so the trucks would still have some waste to toss out at landfill. He knew everything. He even knew the names of some of the dishes, if you could call em’ that. I asked him how he knew about this place and he said he used to attend overeaters anonymous, and one day leaving his apartment building he almost crashed into another car with an old group buddy inside. Guy had piled it on since then, apparently, and started talking and he name dropped the place. A lie? Yeah NOW, but then it seemed fuckin normal. I’d never heard of it til he asked me to come play Human Safari, and now here I was laughing it up. What else did you talk about? Ha-ha, Nothing man. I was full on high and watching a guy with no neck eat a small sandcastle made of ice cream sandwiches while the game of thrones theme blared from the speakers. This place was insane. It was like, a fetish club, for McDonalds eaters. No shame. Literally anything went. There was a girl in a hard hat and high visibility vest scooping huge handfuls of mac and cheese from a 10 gallon pail and just shoving it right into her mouth. The Mexican staff had a counter of sorts but they all just pointed to the numbers on the board above their heads. Like an old school one, where ya’ gotta slide each letter in by hand. Like the ones on the door of all these cop rooms you got here. That poo poo alone would make you crack up. The aforementioned Game of Thrones- A song of Ice cream Sandwich, I loving died at that. 16inches of pizza, sounds ok right? Wrong, this is a vertical measurement. ‘Guac and cheese’, a bucket of half guacamole and half mac and cheese. Burger Bucket, Succinct and accurate, just a bucket of assorted burgers. gently caress I almost forgot, CHEEZ. That’s it. Cheese. Pounds and pounds of different cheeses..unfathomable poo poo. Breakfast buckets, taco buckets, you name it. If it was fried up by a teenager on weed for minimum wage it could be found and sold to you in gross, right here. And the privilege of watching it was loving spectacular. It was like the fall of Rome. He seemed to get a kick out of it? How eager was he to laugh it up? Specifically, did he seem to get delight out of anything in particular? Yeah he was always sniggering at the ordering process, I guess he’d seen em’ all shove it down so fast and so much that the novelty wore off. But he said he liked to watch them order. He’d try and guess what they wanted and would laugh when they’d change their minds mid –order. Or ask a question about another menu item, and then order 2. 2 loving buckets of food, man. That’s no joke these people were sick. He started hooting as we went out to top up our high when he seen some folks with weight watchers diaries. Laughed it up saying how they’d fallen off the wagon, that someone should help these people realise that what they were doing was killing em’ as surely as crack or heroin, that fatness needed that kind of social negativity and pressure. Like, more of it.haha even more, that was the kind of warped this guy was. And like I said he wasn’t no model. Pretty flabby truth be told. He didn’t seem to get that’s what we were doing laughing at these guys right there as they wolfed it down, and they didn’t give a gently caress. The pressure was not helping that whatever we said would probably make em’ eat more. What did he think of that? He said it was bullshit. That if we made it so it was impossible to get fat that those people would have to face how ugly they were inside, instead of blaming it over what they looked like. That their guilt would have to rise up out of their mouths if they stopped ramming high fructose corn syrup and processed cheese product down their throats. Dude had some backward rear end opinions man, but he was like, funny, y’know he had delivery. So we hear. A persuasive guy in his own way. How did you come to leave? He got tired and said he had a bunch of stuff to do, that he could drop me off back at the station and I could grab my bike. We talked a bit on the way home, he needed a hook-up for crank, said his sister had this rear end in a top hat boyfriend that was keeping her on the junk. He needed some so she wouldn’t have to keep going back to that rear end in a top hat for a fix. I really felt for the dude, so I said I’d send a guy I met in Juvie a text to see if he still had the hook-up, we exchanged numbers and I got on , well no we talked a bit more, and then I What about? Wanted to know if I could drive? Said he heard that these Bucket clubs were getting popular, and more might be opening soon. Could be some good tax free money if I’d drive with him. Help him load the truck we could smoke weed; hit a little crank just chill on the job. He said he knew a guy at the haulage firm who could hook us up. I was ‘yeah’ no problem man that sounds pretty dope. Who was the contact at the haulage firm? He said his name was Gnarr. I came to know him as Jimmy Gnarfeldt. The first victim? The man who delivered to the Fried Chicken Buffet on Marlot St.? Yeah man, that’s him. Look, no ones sorrier than me that this happened. This is loving insane. A nightmare. No one could’ve predicted this poo poo w- Yeah? Well this nightmares here and more real than than anything this Jimmo fucker told you. A metabolite of some weird chemical your loving lunatic stoner buddy who JUST HAPPENED to also be some hot shot biochemist has inserted into the American food chain is driving metabolism sky high and killing hundreds of people a day. You better start accepting this poo poo motherfucker cause right now you’re one of only 4 people who we can confirm ever even met him prior to the attack. He’s a loving phantom, and when the dust settles on this and there’s only you and these other loving washout retards left holding the bag it’s all coming down on your shoulders , so it behooves your rear end to cooperate <Detective to intercom> Get him outta here we’ll talk again tomorrow. Get your thinking cap on. I want to know everything about the delivery jobs you did <recording ends> DrBrezo fucked around with this message at 17:45 on May 12, 2014 |
#
?
May 12, 2014 12:15
|
|
|
|
| # ? Apr 26, 2024 00:34 |
|