Original Flavour.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!"
I opened our cooler in the back of the van to be rewarded with breaded carcasses.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!"
I swear, yesterday, it was all grapefruit juice, Mt. Dew, apricot jelly, and leftovers from the Indian restaurant we ate at two days ago.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!"
Third times, being charmed, Kevin turned away from the road and said calmly, "Whoppers."
"Why are there three dozen Whoppers in the cooler?"
"It's more of a fridge," Erin said.
"Ok, why are there three dozen Whoppers in the fridge?"
"It's only thirty," NiNi said, trying to soothe.
"Why are there THIRTY FUCKING WHOPPERS IN THE FUCKING FRIDGE!"
"Because they would spoil if we kept them anywhere else."
"I give up." I opened the back of the van to jump while Kevin had us running this stretch of Interstate at 95 miles an hour.
"Christ Mel, are you on dope?" Kevin pulled over.
I shut the door of the van and slowly walked backwards from the cooler. "I give up." I collapsed and fell onto the couch, half on NiNi's lap.
"Well, as long as you give up," Kevin shrugged and pulled back onto the Interstate.
