Behold the Big MacChicken:
The whole time I was assembling the burger I kept reminding myself of the calories and fat content but it had to be done, for science of course. After ordering 3 McChickens and a Big Mac I found a quiet corner of the restaurant and sat down and began dissecting the sandwiches. The McChickens came apart easily and I stacked the buns to the side. I kept some of the mayo on the patties as I knew that some sauce would be lost on the bun of the Big Mac. Each bun was removed and immediately replaced with a chicken patty while trying to keep as much of the secret sauce, lettuce, onion and pickle intact on the burger patty. The sandwich ended up being much taller than the Big Mac and was heavy for it’s size. After looking around the restaurant to see if anyone was watching I dove in.
With the first bite I found myself going through a crunchy/juicy layer after layer and the texture was to die for. Everything just worked. Clouds split as a bright ray of sunshine beamed down to my table. The elderly couple a few tables over started playing a harp as a unicorn walked by during my second bite. I was in heaven for a few seconds then the guilt hit me. Was I really doing this? 4 sandwiches at once? I had to stop. There was no way I could finish this monster.
Fast forward 35 minutes and I’m presently at my work desk and miserable. Thoughts of running to the restroom to vomit are racing through my head. I have a conference call in 20 minutes and I don’t know if I can make it. Fuck. Is it really my stomach that is aching or am I psychologically telling myself to vomit. All I know is that my mind is telling me that the sandwich was absolutely delicious but my body is rejecting it.
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