You Deserve A Break Today © 2005 Ginger Hamilton Caudill

Mickey’s car screeched to a stop. A disembodied female voice boomed, “Welcome to McDonald’s. May I have your order?”

“I need a minute.”

“Take your time.”

Mickey checked out the menu. Double cheeseburgers were still on the $1 value menu, but he wasn’t in the mood for a double cheese. A Big Mac sounded good. Mickey loved the creamy Thousand Island dressing, the tang of the cheese and the pickle. He even enjoyed spitting out sesame seeds that got stuck between his teeth long after the sandwich was gone. Yeah, Big Mac sounds right, he thought. Then he saw the Filet O’Fish at the top of the menu. Oh man, a square of crunchy battered fish and a slice of melted golden cheese inside that soft bun sounded good.

The Filet O’Fish whispered, “Eat me, Mickey.” He remembered munching the flaky white fish and imagined the sweet creamy tartar sauce oozing out the sides and now all he wanted was the Filet O’Fish sandwich.

The Big Mac called to him, “Mickey, pick me! McDonald’s built its reputation on me. I’m the signature sandwich!” The photo of the Big Mac on the menu seemed to… wink at Mickey. Mickey blinked.

“You deserve a break today, Mickey,” the Filet O’Fish whispered. Mickey noticed the fish sandwich had a more feminine voice than the Big Mac. “Hamburgers are a dime a dozen. Pick me.” The Filet O’Fish on the menu seemed to open just a smidgeon, revealing a little more… cheese.

Mickey shook his head and rubbed at his eyes. Maybe I’ve been on the road a little too long, he thought.

The Big Mac on the menu entreated him again. “I have an extra bun, Mickey. I’m special. You don’t want that plain fish sandwich. Eat me, Mickey.” The Big Mac’s top bun began spinning. It was hard to tell, but Mickey noticed that the sesame seeds kept changing places.

Mickey jumped as the ethereal voice called out, “Are you ready to order?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied.

“Is there something wrong?”

“I’m not… sure,” he answered. “I must be really tired because it seems like the Big Mac and the Filet O’Fish are… talking to me.”

“Talking to you? The Big Mac and the fish sandwich? What are they saying?”

“They’re…um… trying to get me to choose them over the other one,” Mickey added, embarrassed.

“They are, are they? Well, sir, you can’t just sit out there all night. If you aren’t going to order, you’ll have to pull up.”

The Big Mac twirled its top bun even faster. The Filet O’Fish opened up fully, revealing its tantalizing tartar sauce. It looked like it winked at him too.

“I’m going to Wendy’s,” Mickey said.

As the car drove away, the Filet O’Fish began to weep.