at the airport

touristic information center

-excuse me, sir, do you have a mcdonald’s here?
-a mag-ah-whaaat?!
-a mcdonald’s!
-are you lost?
-no, i’m looking for a mcdonald’s, you know?
-i don’t think i do… is he scottish?
-no, no, i mean mcdonald’s, like, fast-food? get it?
-sorry, sir, i can’t get no food for you. you should try the food-yard, or food-quarters depending on where you’re from. they’ll get you food there. it won’t be fast, ‘though, that i can tell ya.
-you’re not helpful at all, are you?
-excuuuse meee, sir, but i think your wife would gladfully disagree on that!
-what’d you say?!
-you should really get that cock you stuck down your basement-hatch-for-ears out of there so you can HEAR FUCKIN’ BETTER!
-i should kick your bottoms from there to brighton for saying that, young man!
-oh, you just need a nice good happy meal!
-what?
-you know, happy meal, lil’ food, nice gifts, heh?
-oh, so you do have mcdonald’s?
-sir, if your scottish hungry boyfriend is lost i can call for his name on the speaker, would you like that?

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