Drogan was having the dream of his life. Two drop dead gorgeous females at his beck and call, massaging him, feeding him, along with other tiny perks, but that is a whole other story. He was enjoying himself, right up to the point his alarm clock went off. He could just barely see the girls now, as his dream was fading, and reality was sinking in to take their place.

He tried to stay still and think them back into existence, but the damage was done. His hand slapped at the nightstand, flipping the alarm clock which stopped the annoying *BRRRR BRRRR BRRRR BRRRRR BRRRRR!!!* He managed to open one eye, squinting as the light from the nearby uncurtained window flooded the room.

He slowly crawled off the bed, tangled sheets falling from his naked muscular form, making a trail across the room. If anyone had been here last night with him, they must have left already. He had been too drunk to remember. He reached and turned on the shower, letting the water get nice and hot as he stood brushing his teeth in the mirror, then spitting and rinsing, proceeded to stand under the hot cascading torrent for the better part of 10 minutes.

It was about 20 minutes to 11, and he knew the local McDonalds stopped serving breakfast then. He didn't even stop to put on underwear or sock, but grabbed the nearest pair of ripped denim jeans he could find, and slipped his feet into some sandals. He grabbed a black t-shirt that was hanging from his floor lamp on the way out the door, pulling it over his head as he walked, slipping the barrel of his .38 into his waistband. He didn't even stop to lock the door,

He rushed down the stairwell of his apartment building, nearly stepping on a hooker, passed out on the stairs. He stumbled through the entrance, into the street, then made a mad dash to the end of the block. He checked his watch just as he was entering through the glass doors and sure enough, he had made it with a few minutes to spare. He would get his McDonalds breakfast after all.

Drogan took his place in the line up, only 2 people being in front of him he figured everything would be smooth. Smooth...yeah right...not today bucko! He looked around the room impatiently as he waited for his turn in line, noticing a couple hot girls most likely from the local university looking his way. He'd never had a problem with girls. He flashed a trademark grin their way that had them swooning and giggling in seconds, then fell back on his ultimate secret for attracting girls. He ignored them.

As he turned back to look towards the counter, the fat kid that had just finished receiving his order dropped his drink spraying cream soda across the front of the counter and the tweaking crackhead behind him. Drogan was livid, there being only a couple minutes now before breakfast would stop being served. He pulled a roll of bills out of his jeans pocket, and proceeded to bribe the cracked out emo for his place next in line. The tweaker snatched the 20 dollar bill out of his hand and ran towards the door and into the street, no doubt in search of the nearest dealer.

With the girl behind the counter in plain sight, and 35 seconds left before 11 oclock, Drogan stepped up to the counter and started to place his order. The girl waited till he had finished, then looked at the clock, wrinkling her nose.

I'm sorry Sir, but breakfast is no longer being served. (her expression apathetic to the whole situation)

Drogan paused for a minute, stunned, then reaching behind with his right hand, pulled his .38 from his waistband, leveling it in the girls face. He didn't even speak, just stared, almost daring her to piss him off this morning. She stared back, first at the dreadful glare in his eyes, then at the barrel of the .38, then with a mock smile and a cheerful voice...

Want fries with that?