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Audacity and Power
by Cat Fleming

A new black Commodore ute, all chrome and rumble, cruises up to the drive-through window of the only McDonald’s restaurant in town. Inside the ute: “Whadda ya want, Rowena?”

“Um, I’ll ‘ave a Big Mac, a McChicken an’ a Chocolate Shake thanks Cal, me darlin’.”

He turns and addresses the woman in the window. “Ok, we’ll ‘ave two Big Mac’s, a McChicken, a Double Quarter Pounder, a Chocolate Shake an’ a McFlurry.”

“Orh Cal, can I ‘ave a McFlurry too?”

The woman in the McDonald’s window speaks. “Would you like some lard sauce on those burgers?”


“Yes, we’re doing a new programme for people in abject denial about their over abundance of adipose tissue. For up to ten dollars more you can get extra fat or extra sugar in any of our products. For example, you can get ten more mils of glucose syrup in your chocolate shake today for only two dollars fifty.”

“Um, um, whadda ya think Row?”

“Yeh, Cal, that sounds good.”

“Ok, yeh, we’ll have that.”

“And for people with more money than brains, we’ve got deep fried, chocolate covered Big Macs for nine dollars seventy five.”


“Is that something you’d be interested in, sir?”

“Yeh Cal, tell her yeh.”

“I think she’s bein’ funny, Row.”

“Whadda ya mean by that, lady?”

“Well, have you noticed that you are obscenely corpulent?”


“You are grotesquely rotund sir, and it seems that you are not aware that your repugnant physicality is precipitated by a flagrant disregard for basic nutritional rules. Even a miniscule awareness in this area would afford you some benefit. That is why I am probably not going to sell you any food today (somehow, I don’t think you would be willing to purchase one of our healthy salads and a bottle of water, which is the only food henceforth that I will sell to you), but I will be giving you something. This book is a token, shall we say, of my distress over your apathy in regards to your own health and well-being. You may be somewhat offended, but if you have even a modicum of self-preservation, self-respect inside your pinguid body, you will read it. It may just change your life.”

“What are you on about, lady!” Are you gunna give us our order or not?”

“I’m happy for you to order a salad.”

“I don’t care what you are happy about, you pasty faced old cow, I just want my burgers. Where’s the manager?”

“You are speaking to her.”

“Well, ya won’t be much of a manager after I talk to the bloody owner!”

“Actually sir, I am the owner… of this entire complex.”

“Well get stuffed then bag face, we don’t want your stupid book, and we’ll never come back here again! You’ve just lost some damn good customers!”

The black ute squeals out of the driveway.

From the window: “They will be back…”