TragicTalesofTitoAndThuellis

MCDONALDS.

It was a dreary and drizzly Thursday when Tito and I were stricken with a torturous hunger. For days I had laid upon the ratty couch in the middle of my flat in a malaise, pondering my abysmal existence and drowning in a sea of suicidal emotions.  Sweet Tito, my precious pet unicorn, was my only solace during that long hardship. He laid face-first on the ground oh so sweetly, his glassy eyes glued dead-set on my pathetic visage. So intensely concentrated was Tito that he never even took the time to blink away the flies crawling over his eye-balls. His compassion gave me the strength not to stagnate there on my coach and succumb to starvation. I leaned my head towards my old chum who was sprawled out on the floor. His very gaze urged me to press on through my horrid life. I smiled, yet my stomach grimaced and gurgled like a drowning rat.
"I shall purge my displeasure by gorging on the fat of the suburban land." I said to myself.  I stared deeply into the glazed eyes of the unicorn beside me, "Would you like to go to McDonalds, Tito?" I whispered in his fly-speckled ear.
Tito's eyes twitched, their lids positively fluttering.
"Oh, you really are hungry aren't you?" I said to him. "Then we'll make it to McDonalds, post-haste!
  My fleeting happiness painfully waned as I began to walk from my little flat between the dump where I work as a garbage man in the morning and the cemetery where I work as a grave-keeper at night.  I walked down the cold and rainy streets with Tito by my side. The bright lights of the McDonalds sign blared through the gray misty air. To Tito and me, it was salvation. Food, something plucked from our lives by an empty fridge and a grubby hobo who stole all my slim-jims, had been all but a fleeting daydream desire.  Eagerly I tugged Tito towards those golden arches. The poor creature was sluggish with hunger. The graycast drizzle transformed into black storm clouds. We were pounded by the watery chill of Mother Nature's black-hearted abuse, yet with hunger in our bellies we pressed ever onward.
  Dodging cars and enduring the storm, we finally reached the McDonald's Parking Lot. Tito was limp with hunger and I was soaked and burdened with rain and tiredness. With great relief I clasped the cool slick handle to the entrance and was welcomed with the warmth of a heated building and the hearty scent of salty French- fries. We had found the promise land.
I left sad and feeble Tito in the booth of my choice, one near the vents so we could warm ourselves. Ignoring the blank stares of the dumb suburban masses, those blind cattle that gobble their fattening food as much as their bland sitcoms, I continued to my more important business. They watched me and all my pain like it were just a shoddy comedy, barley even having the sense to blink. I trudged over to the counter and pulled out a crumpled five dollar bill. My server was a fellow seeker through the darkness, a martyr of this suburban land of idiots, enlightened beyond this superficial reality. His bepimpled and pot-marked flesh was a testament to his stoic soul. He adjusted his glasses and wiped away his oily hair from his face.  
"What would you like to order, Thuellis, my fellow seeker through the darkness?"
"A burger, with mustard…no cheese…and no pickles" I told my high school friend Keith. "Tito would like a Sunday and a Fish Fillet."
"Okay, Thuellis" he replied placidly, tapping on the cash register. "That would be four dollars and fifty cents. My you are hungry today, two sandwiches and a Sunday?"
"Some of it's for Tito," I told him once again.
"Alright…won't argue with you," chuckled my supposed friend. He threw the contents of my fast-food meal into a paper bag. His disbelief of my friend Tito's existence was disheartening. I decided to glance over his ignorance, seeing he was still very naïve in the ways of darkness.  He still preferred Twilight over Edger Alan Poe.  Oh but soon, soon he would be able perceive Tito properly. Enlightenment comes to those who brood and stew in sorrow.
  I exchanged my soggy and crumpled five dollar bill for fifty cents, a hot meal, and a useless recite. Then I took my tray to the booth of my choice. Tito was absolutely rigid with excitement at the sight of ice-cream. I placed his food beside his silky mane and sat down with my own. Eagerly I unwrapped my burger and opened my mouth to partake of this much appreciated sustenance. A warm feeling of elation filled my heart at that moment. O' precious fulfillment, oh how long I have searched for thee! I munched upon my burger all the way to its juicy center, eagerly expecting the pinnacle of my culinary pleasure...
and then there was that wretched pickle…
  My delight imploded into itself like a dying sun. A sick realization washed over me like a wave of sewage. The disgusting mess violating my taste buds robbed me of my blind happiness and opened my eyes to the world around me. Through my pain, I saw the emptiness of this raunchy grease pit. I was becoming like these mindless people-cattle, being fattened and having enlightenment stripped away. I wished to vomit, to purge this evil from body. It was all vanity, empty calories from and empty world. I thought I had reached the apex of grief, but that was before the laughter of the children pierced through my ears.
  My attention was drawn to the crowd of excited toddlers cloistering together. They cheered and danced like wild pagans. Amidst their circle of worship was a pale-skinned fellow with hair the color of blood. It was then that this cheerful jester of the suburban empire of McDonalds lustfully skipped to a merry tune towards my weeping form.
  "Howdy-doody there little mister!" Singed the pale clown-creature of this wretched grease-pit. A wicked grin cut across his face. "How do you like your burger?"
"As much as my friend Tito likes his Sunday…" I pointed a shaking finger to my unicorn friend, who was reluctantly imbibing on his melting Sunday, face-first and not caring even to swallow.
"Well that is too bad, friend." Mockingly consoles the demon fast-food jester. "Would you like a free Mcflurry?"
A black anger boiled inside my intestines. All the rage I have felt exploded in to a murderous fury. I grabbed Tito's horn and ripped it from his skull. The clown screamed in a beautiful agony as I impaled his spleen. For the first time in what has felt to be an eon of coldness, I laugh at the clown's demise. "Would you like fries with that?"
  It was then the laughter of children malformed into a cacophony of screams, and some feeble solace returned to me.

  Over all, today was a good day.