A Burrito Supreme. Oh, and a gorgonzola cheese sandwich and a glass of burgundy. Yes, I said, yes.
I’ll have a Double-Double, Animal style, a chocolate shake and perhaps seven volumes full of painfully evocative madeleine cookies off the not-so-secret menu.
This line has been a long sentence. Really un pain. I’d just like some bread, please.
A Spicy Chicken Wrap, baked potato, and a large bowl of chili. Really large. Larger, even. Please, sir, I want some more.
I’m hungry as a tiger. I could eat a blind French castaway. Give me a Double Quarter Pounder. Oh, and a Filet-o-Fish.
Richard Parker, Life of Pi
Jack in the Box
Gimme a Jumbo, Jack, plain. Nothing phony on it, for crissakes. I hate phonies. Don’t even get me started, Jack.
Hawaiian Pizza but instead of pineapple, can you make it with Canned Pears? That should taste just like the post-apocalypse. To go. We’ll eat it at the bunker.
Cormac McCarthy, Eating On the Road
Smokehouse Brisket Sandwich with a Dry Martini and extra wit. For here. I’ll eat it at the Round Table.
I’ll have the Big Mac Menu. Supersize it. Oh, and a kid’s meal for the little girl.
Give me the 16-piece feast. Make it short. And snappy. And to go. I’d like it moveable.
I would that I shall exit stage-left, pursued by two dozen bear claws, so that there shall be more cakes and ale.
(Special promotion: get a free side salad with every order of family-size claps)
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Scott Stavrou is the author of Losing Venice, a novel