McDomme's How Can I Help You by Lady Dalia

Scene:  A sunny afternoon in any city.  A drive-thru restaurant named McDommes'.

A disembodied voice says repeatedly:  Good day and welcome to McDommes'.  How can we help you?

Boy One:  Well, I'd like an order of hot and & spicy McDommes' to go, in a package that will keep it fresh.  I want to pull it out to snack on it when it's convenient for me.

Boy Two:  I need some of that slick, softly swirled ice cream on a cone, so I can hold it in my firm grip, lick and twirl my tongue around it, and in it, until it gets so hot it starts to drip down my chin and over my chest and I'll move my hands over the creamy mess and smear it on me because I love McDommes'!  No, no really.  I will surrender my coupons because I love doing it so much.

Boy Three:  I want everything on the menu: snacks, meals, drinks, and desserts.  I have quite the appetite *flexes his flabby belly to an imaginary camera* There is nothing that I don't want and cannot handle.  I don't care what happens to me.  Until there is something I haven't thought of.  And yes, you still have liability.

Boy Four:  Give me a package of McDommes' cookies.  Those in the cute cookie cutter shapes, sweet but brittle, so I can break them up in to tiny pieces and dip them in my scalding, hot coffee.  I love it when they go all mushy on me.

Boy Five:  I am here to protest McDommes' lack of complaints form in this drive-thru.  I should be given the ability to impinge your name at every opportunity and it just isn't sporting of you not to give me one right now.  "stomps his foot on the gas, rear ending the boy in front of him*

Boy Six:  I'd like to buy gift certificates.  I will never use them.  In fact, force me to buy them.  I love a touch of extortion in my day.  We'll just pretend, ok?

Boy Seven:  I'd like a Big McDommes' Value Meal, hold the lettuce, onions, condiments, cheese and meat. Substitute the fries with cookies and give me a frothy shake instead of a fizzy drink.  I'm on a McDommes' diet.

Boy Eight: Uh.  Uhm.  Hrmmm.  Uh.  Hang on...

Boy Nine shouts over eight's car:  I thought this was Mc Dommes'!  Why is it taking so long to order?

Boy Ten reading from a long, detailed list: I'll take a snack pack first, the 5 not the 20, then slip me a taste of pie, just as a tease, before passing me a french fry, dangle it over my lips but DO NOT LET ME bite...

Boy Eleven in a stage whisper: This isn't taped is it?  I don't want anyone to know I am here.  I'll come visit from time to time but you can't tell anyone.

Boy Eight again:  Uh.  I don't know? *sighs*

Boy Ten continues reading:  Come at me unexpectedly with a sandwich and shove it in my mouth.

Boy Twelve:  I am here to save you from yourself.  I am a quality control expert.  I know how it should all be done.  Never mind that  I have no experience.  I'll tell you how, when and why you should be doing everything.  Don't worry, leave it all to me.

Boy Ten inserts:  I have been planning this for a long time...

Boy Eight finally:  Give me a little of everything and I'll send back what I don't like.  You don't mind, do you?

A Greek Chorus steps in front of the action: Never fear dear audience... *two women echo the word fear back and forth, till it passes gently away* At the cashier's window, none of them had any currency, of any kind.

The End.