Double Quarter Pounder (Medium Rare)

When I was in high school I'd hang out on the other side of town with my headbanger friends. On weeknights I'd get picked up by my mother around 9 p.m. and she'd take me home. Sometimes I'd be hungry (I usually skipped dinner after school) so Mom would hit the drive-thru on the way home and I'd grab a burger (Eating this late was probably not a good idea. No wonder my stomach hurts so much).

My friend Dexter from school worked at McDonalds. Dexter worked the grill, flipping hamburger patties. Sometimes my friends and I would stop in at the end of his shift and he'd give us free stuff to eat. Dexter was a nice guy. But as an employee Dexter was unreliable and often stoned out of his mind.

This appeared to be the case on the fateful night my mother stopped at the McDonalds’ drive-thru to buy me some dinner. I ordered a Double Quarter Pounder value meal. When I received it, I noticed the meat looked uncommonly rare. It was bright pink. Usually, McDonalds serves everything well done. Apparently there is a reason for this, as I soon found out.

The lights of the restaurant faded into the distance as we drove away. Soon I couldn’t see the pink meat in my hand anymore. So I went ahead and ate the burger. What I can't see won't hurt me, right?

Moments after pulling into our driveway inhuman noises began erupting from my belly. Pain shot through my mid-section as if I had been stabbed. I knew I was in for some serious trouble.

I leaped from the car and ran into the house and straight for the bathroom. The urge to vomit came fast and hard with little time to prepare. I dropped to my knees in front of the toilet and the puking began.

On and on, my body was locked in horrible agony. Suddenly, in the midst of the vomiting, the diarrhea hit like a foamy brown tidal wave. It was too late to pump the brakes. I soiled myself.

I vomited a little more then flushed that awful vision away. I quickly staggered to my feet, dropped my drawers and sat down on the can, looking down at the soiled underwear sagging between my legs. Feeling another wave of sickness coming up, I grabbed the nearby bathroom garbage can and puked into it. The puking action loosened my bowels again and more waste exploded out of my backside.

I had done my fair share of puking and crapping in my life, but I had never experienced anything like this. My body could not purge the undercooked McDonalds hamburger fast enough. I could almost hear the alarms going off inside me. “Abandon ship! She’s gonna blow!”

After twenty minutes of purging I was finally finished. I stood up and looked in the mirror. My eyes were bloodshot and tears were streaming from them. My throat was raw and my ass was sore. I began the long, delicate process of cleaning myself up.

With shame I told my mother what happened and placed my soiled garments in the washing machine. Even though I was shaken up emotionally and physically, I was also thankful that my body was wise enough to remove the horrible poison I placed inside it. It probably saved my life.

The next morning at school I told Dexter all about what he’d done to me and to this day, everytime I stop at McDonalds and see a photo of the Double Quarter Pounder, I think of Dexter and the night I soiled myself.