Who do I gotta kill to get a decent cheeseburger?!?!

I’ve been craving a cheeseburger for several days. To date, despite not one, not two, but THREE attempts, my hunger has not yet been sated.

Last Sunday night Mrs. Chickenbutt offered to run by Wendy’s and grab some dinner. As thoughts of a delicious Classic Double danced in my head, I played Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga on the Wii. Just as I located the 5th minikit canister on Episode I, level 2, she arrived home laden with fast-food goodness. Imagine my utter chagrin when I opened the bag to discover NOT the Classic Double which I had eagerly anticipated…but a plain old Homestyle Chicken Fillet.

Now, I realize it was not Mrs. Chickenbutt’s fault. I trust that she remembered my order and gave it correctly. She blames our local Wendy’s’s bizarre double drive-thru, wherein two drive-thru ordering lanes converge into one food pick-up lane. It is a food delivery system rife with complications and potential pitfalls. I am certain there is some equally good-looking, intelligent and dynamic guy out there somewhere wailing impotently into the night “Classic Double?! Damn you Wendy’s! I ordered a Homestyle Chicken Fillet!” (For the sake of brevity, we’ll ignore the obvious character flaw in preferring the Homestyle Chicken Fillet to the Classic Double.)

Thanking the wife for her effort and assuring her that she was not to blame, I begrudgingly ate my substandard Homestyle Chicken Fillet in silence, vowing never again to use the drive-thru at that Wendy’s (or any double drive-thru anywhere.) I further vowed that I would have my cheeseburger soon. Oh, yes…very soon.

The very next day, after running some errands, Mrs. Chickenbutt and I decided to stop by Dairy Queen for burgers and a deliciously decadent Brownie Batter Blizzard. (We’re having a bad week, nutrition-wise.) Rather than going with my first instinct to get the Flamethrower, I instead ordered a simple cheeseburger from their value menu thinking it would satisfy my cheeseburger need. But it was not to be.

This Dairy Queen cheeseburger appeared as though it had been hanging out under the heat lamps all day. The bun was dry, the patty flavorless, and it appeared to be garnished with a single pickle and a squirt of that reddish, watery goop that comes out of an unshaken ketchup bottle. (Wasn’t there a sniglet for that stuff?)

Needless to say, this cheeseburger was unsatisfactory. But I persevered!

Today, having not the wherewithall to prepare a bag lunch for myself, I trotted* on down to the cafeteria in an adjoining building. This cafeteria makes a mean wrap, decent chicken fingers, and a reliably decent cheeseburger. I ordered said cheeseburger “fully dressed” and trotted* back to my office with a smile on my face and the certainty that my desire would be met.

But no.

This cheeseburger was overcooked, featuring a revoltingly flaccid leaf of lettuce and…red onions, the onionest of all onions. Even after removing said onions, I still could not enjoy my burger for all it’s flaws. I chewed in silence, glaring at an indeterminate point on the far wall. Imagine Ren chomping on the bar of soap in the Ren & Stimpy episode “Space Madness.” I’m sure that’s what I looked like.

And so here we are, dear reader. I am thrice denied and very cranky.

* No actual trotting occurred.