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IT IS THE BEST OF TIMES, IT IS THE BEST OF TIMES. FOR YOU SEE WHEN YOU ARE AN EXTREMELY TALENTED AND EXCEPTIONAL MAN GAKA LIKE MYSELF ALL TIMES ARE THE BEST OF TIMES. THESE PLANS, ARE EXCEPTIONAL, DELIGHTFUL, AND OF THE HIGHEST QUALITY. YOU ARE ME, EXCEPT YOU ARE NOT BECAUSE THIS IS A NARRATIVE DEVICE THAT WE WRITERS CALL “SECOND PERSON”
YOU ARE ME (EXCEPT NOT REALLY) AND YOU ARE GOING TO ART SCHOOL (I AM GOING TO ART SCHOOL) THIS ART SCHOOL IS PRESTIGIOUS AND EXCELLENT. EXCEPT NOW IT IS MORE PRESTIGIOUS AND EXCELLENT BECAUSE YOU ARE HERE (I AM HERE)
YOU WALK INTO THE ROOM ( I WALK INTO THE ROOM) AND YOU SIT DOWN (I SIT DOWN) AT THE DESK AND SLAM YOUR (MY) HANDS DOWN ON THE TABLE
“EDUCATE ME ART TEACHER, FOR I, (ME) HAVE COME TO INQUIRE OF YOUR ARTS”
THE ART TEACHER TURNS TO ME. SHE IS A SAUCY BITCH IN AN OUTFIT THAT ACCENTUATES HER CURVES IN THE DENT OF SPACE AND TIME. SHE OPENS HER MOUTH
“Sir, this is a Wendy’s”
YOU (I) GASP. BUT EXCUSE ME, BITCH, FOR IS THIS NOT AN ESTABLISHMENT OF FINE ARTS. ANOTHER PERSON WALKS IN. AH YES, FINALLY A MAN THAT KNOWS WHAT THEY ARE TALKING ABOUT.
“Excuse me, but you’re yelling at my employee. Can you stop”
NO! YOU (I) SAY I AM HERE TO LEARN THE FINE ARTS.
“We make burgers” THE MAN AGER SAYS.
IS THAT A TYPE OF ART? YOU (YOU KNOW WHAT, FUCK THIS) I SAY THIS NOT YOU, YOU ARE USELESS AND HORRIBLE, I AM THE ONE SPEAKING, THE ONE WRITING, YOU ARE NOT TALENTED FOR I HAVE WORKED HARD ON WHAT WE IN THE BIZ CALL, AUTHORSHIP. THIS IS WHAT WE IN THE BUSINESS CALL A TWIST. FOR YOU ARE NOT THE ONE CONTROLLING ME, BUT I WAS IN CONTROL ALL ALONG. HA. HA.
“Corporate requires me to say yes.”
THEN I DEMAND YOU TEACH ME THE ART OF BURGERS. I SAY, NOT YOU.
“You… want a job?”
I WOULD LIKE TO THINK THAT I ALREADY HAVE THE JOB, YOU HAVE JUST YET TO TEACH ME. I VAULT OVER THE TABLE, DOING AN INCREDIBLY COOL FLIP THAT MAKES THE BITCH BLUSH. TEACH ME OF YOUR BURGER ART.
“Um. Okay. come to the back”
I FOLLOW THE MAN AGER TO THE BACK THERE IS A GIANT METAL SLAB. THERE ARE MEAT PATTIES ON THE SLAB. I INFORM THE MAN THAT HE IS WASTING THE MEAT AND BURNING IT.
“I mean no, we cook it, we have to. Raw meat is bad for you.”
I INFORM THE MAN THAT HE IS WRONG, HE IS FULL OF SHIT. MEAT IS BEST EATEN RAW. HE GLARES AT ME. HE DOES NOT UNDERSTAND, BUT HE IS A MAN AND I WILL LET HIM LIVE AT THIS MOMENT. HE TAKES A FROZEN SLAB OF MEAT AND SLAPS IT ON WHAT HE CALLS “ A GRILL” IT BEGINS SIZZLING. I WATCH THE MEAT. THERE IS A SCENT THAT BLOOMS FROM ITS HOT FLESH. IT IS…. MAGNIFICENT. HE THEN PLACES A ORANGE RECTANGLE, A CRUNCHY GREEN THING. THEN HE REMOVES THE MEAT AND PLACES IT ON A BUN. HE HANDS IT TO ME.
I STARE AT IT.
“Eat it” HE SAYS
I CONSUME THE FLESH OF THE COWBEAST.
THERE IS A LIFE CHANGING REVELATION IN ME. MY WORLD HAS BEEN SHATTERED. I AM FREE FROM A TYPE OF LOSS THAT I HAVE EXPERIENCED MY ENTIRE LIFE. I CONSUME THE BURGER, MY CAGE IS GONE. I CONSUME THE BURGER. THIS IS ART. THIS IS ART.
I UNDERSTAND ART AND ART IS A BURGER. I LOOK UP AT THE MAN. I GRAB HIS SHIRT AND PULL HIM TO ME. I SAY
TELL ME MORE OF THE CANVAS OF THE BURGER
HE SMILES AT ME, HIS SMIRK. IT’S MADDENING.
“Just wait until we put bacon on it.”