The making of a Double Pound Monster

I got a call from Shen late last afternoon saying that he’d just found out that day that he had to leave for Africa soon. Soon being 7.30am on the next morning. At such short notice, he was understandably flustered about having to pack, make sure his business was in order, and tie up a few other miscellaneous loose ends within the next 12 hours, so I headed over to his place after work with a few other friends to help him out. A very quick dinner was in order, and after hearing him complain about the lack of meat he’d be eating there over the next month, I got in my head a pretty twisted notion. First:

The girl at the register initially retorted to the order with a “you’re not serious”. After Shen had convinced her otherwise, she called the manager over and they debated whether (a) the order was allowed; (b) they had entered the correct amount of patties into the register; and (c) whether they were violating any health laws in the process. I think the manager was in shock – the expression on her face was rather priceless. Anyway, after they took the order she turned around to talk to the guy behind the grill. In a rather elevated tone of voice, she announced our order to the grill guy in much the same way a check out person would request a price check for a pack of condoms bought by an embarrassed teenager. There was a splutter of indignation from behind the grill. “Nah, I’m serious! They ordered eight patties, man!”

She turned back to us… “uh, we’ll bring it out to you”.

I’ll let the pictures do the rest of the talking.

The burger required three sheets and two cardboard rings to wrap up.

In all its semi-congealed glory.

Shen and the store manager posing with the Double Pounder

Just to clear things up, that obscenity fed the whole group of us. We had to ask for forks and knives.

  3:51pm (GMT +10.00) tomorrow  •  Food  •   •  Tweet This  •  Comments (3)