Great A Hot & Juicy Story
Well, I was loafin' around the salad bar at the burger stand one chili day
on Coney Island, when I Frito-Lay'd my eyes on the sweetest little tomato
I'd ever seen. Let's just say I could tell she wasn't gonna be ice-cold or
taste like some of those cheaper spreads I'd eaten.
So I mustard up my courage and I whispered, "Hey, Mama Bird! You got a sweet
set of sesame-seed buns, and I'd live to bury my open-face in your McMuffin
snack pack. And maybe later I could drive-in my Jumbo Jack in your Box. So,
what's your name, anyway?"
"Wendy," she replied, and said that her buns were always hot and fresh.
Well, it seemed like an invitation to me, so I unzipped my French-fly,
pulled down my hash-browns and whipped out my Quarter-Pounder.
She took one look at my foot-long Weinerschnitzel and said, "Holy enchirito,
what a Whopper! I haven't seen a sausage and a pair of McNuggets like that
since I was in the sack with Long John Silver over at the Colonel's place,
and I probably won't see another 'til Foster freezes over. And believe me, I
relish the thought of squeezin' the mayonnaise right outta that big Sloppy
Joe of yours."
I said, "Look, honey...those meatheads are just horseradish. I'm the supreme
Burger King around here. And by the way, aren't you hungry?"
"Yeah," she shot back, "I haven't even had my breakfast, Jack." It wasn't
long before she was munching on my Big Mac and eventually took down the
whole enchilada. I could tell I wouldn't be able to hold the pickles or hold
the lettuce much longer, so I just blew a whole gallon of my lo-cal secret
sauce to go. She took a big gulp and giggled, "Oooh, that's fast food. A bit
salty, but quality you can taste...and finger lickin' good, too!"
She said, "So what's yer name, hot dog? Orange you Julius?"
"No," I replied, but you can call me Pizza Man, 'cause I deliver!"
Well anyway, I turned her around, tore off her wrapper, and wedged my Big
Boy between her patties and right up into her hot cherry bendover. She
screamed, "I FOUND THE BEEF, I FOUND THE BEEF!" which just gave me the urge
to keep pounding my SuperBurrito in and out...in and out...and in and
out...and in and out of her hot little micro.
Well, we were still playing Pup 'n' Taco , when she confessed her real name
wasn't Wendy...but Ronald.
Hey, it wasn't my bag, but at least I wouldn't have to worry about taking
her over to see Dr. Pepper to have him pull a Carl's Jr. out of her oven.
Yeah, little did I know that I had spend the night not with a saucy little
fish filet, but with a flaming Dairy Queen!
Well, I was loafin' around the salad bar at the burger stand one chili day
on Coney Island, when I Frito-Lay'd my eyes on the sweetest little tomato
I'd ever seen. Let's just say I could tell she wasn't gonna be ice-cold or
taste like some of those cheaper spreads I'd eaten.
So I mustard up my courage and I whispered, "Hey, Mama Bird! You got a sweet
set of sesame-seed buns, and I'd live to bury my open-face in your McMuffin
snack pack. And maybe later I could drive-in my Jumbo Jack in your Box. So,
what's your name, anyway?"
"Wendy," she replied, and said that her buns were always hot and fresh.
Well, it seemed like an invitation to me, so I unzipped my French-fly,
pulled down my hash-browns and whipped out my Quarter-Pounder.
She took one look at my foot-long Weinerschnitzel and said, "Holy enchirito,
what a Whopper! I haven't seen a sausage and a pair of McNuggets like that
since I was in the sack with Long John Silver over at the Colonel's place,
and I probably won't see another 'til Foster freezes over. And believe me, I
relish the thought of squeezin' the mayonnaise right outta that big Sloppy
Joe of yours."
I said, "Look, honey...those meatheads are just horseradish. I'm the supreme
Burger King around here. And by the way, aren't you hungry?"
"Yeah," she shot back, "I haven't even had my breakfast, Jack." It wasn't
long before she was munching on my Big Mac and eventually took down the
whole enchilada. I could tell I wouldn't be able to hold the pickles or hold
the lettuce much longer, so I just blew a whole gallon of my lo-cal secret
sauce to go. She took a big gulp and giggled, "Oooh, that's fast food. A bit
salty, but quality you can taste...and finger lickin' good, too!"
She said, "So what's yer name, hot dog? Orange you Julius?"
"No," I replied, but you can call me Pizza Man, 'cause I deliver!"
Well anyway, I turned her around, tore off her wrapper, and wedged my Big
Boy between her patties and right up into her hot cherry bendover. She
screamed, "I FOUND THE BEEF, I FOUND THE BEEF!" which just gave me the urge
to keep pounding my SuperBurrito in and out...in and out...and in and
out...and in and out of her hot little micro.
Well, we were still playing Pup 'n' Taco , when she confessed her real name
wasn't Wendy...but Ronald.
Hey, it wasn't my bag, but at least I wouldn't have to worry about taking
her over to see Dr. Pepper to have him pull a Carl's Jr. out of her oven.
Yeah, little did I know that I had spend the night not with a saucy little
fish filet, but with a flaming Dairy Queen!
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