As all dreams do, it started with inspiration. Whilst the tender Whopper juices were streaming down her chin she wondered if there was something more. Something more than the Bacon Deluxe. Something more that the petty attempts by mere mortals to simply upsize.
Consumed with a fiery courage delivered by copious amounts of whiskey she strolled to the melamine altar and brandished her sword and uttered, “Give me Discoburger!”
The staff were stunned – nay they were afraid. For something this epic had been rarely undertaken. Eight layers of beef, interjected with eight layers of cheese, salad and sweet, sweet mayonnaise. . Fear was in their eyes as they punched the order into the computer and ventured bravely into the kitchen. Emerging moments later they confessed the burger could not be contained in paper, nay it must stand alone.
As Discoburger slid across the counter towards the waiting warrior the crowd gasped. What was this monstrosity before them? Was it not a thing of beauty as it was in her eyes? Cameras emerged, grown men stepped forth and nodded in silent respect and acknowledgement.
Like the true warrior she was she used her bare hands to knock the tower of epicness to its knees on the plastic tray. Devouring the meat until it was conquered. But then the dream grew. It could no longer rest at 8 patties. It had grown, exploded and taken on a life of it’s own.
Only 10 would suffice to fulfil the hunger within her. 10 epic layers of beef.
Not one animal would be slain this evening, but TWO. BACON screamed and raged within her. Bacon would only add to the epicness.
Once again she approached the counter and delivered her order. Once again the staff withdrew to prepare the challenge. The manager approached her and mentioned the OH&S issues surrounding serving such a burger without wrapping. She convinced him with a battle of words. And then it emerged, in all its glory.
And so the mighty warrior fought once again with the beast, and once the battle was won she returned to her porcelain throne to celebrate the victory. But alas the warrior could not lay quiet, the dream went through metamorphosis until it began to push the limits of the human soul. 14 layers screamed and tormented her in her sleep. She tossed, she turned, she consumed.
Finally, at 3am, fuelled once again with liquid courage4 she again walked through the Rundle Street doors into glowing haven of her dreams. The staff knew her by now, and the whispers began. Nay, they wondered. Could it not? Could we? Could something so epic continue to live on within her?
The kitchen lay silent as the faithful worker began to construct 14 layers of awesomeness and beauty. They carried it out like a sacrilegious ornament, the holy burger.
“ARGHGHGHGH!” She screamed an unholy war cry and toppled the almighty tower. For the burger itself was beginning to defy physics – often collapsing under the weight of its own awesomeness. She then proceeded to consumed her dream (this time with assistance of a very helpful male warrior).
Bloated and complete she returned to her porcelain throne to groan and thrash with internal journey that would now begin inside of her. But again the voices started.
“Sixteen Layers Pippa, Sixteen Layers…” They would continue to cajole, beguile and tease her until she had no more.
The warrior was about to undertake her greatest challenge.
(Sadly, in pure awe of compiling the Discoburger 5.0 they forgot the cheese, and I felt a little bad sending a 16 layer whopper back for them to make another one )
It had conquered her. For now not only were her bare fingers not enough to fight, she had to use tools. The pure mass of those flame grilled patties needed more sauce, more energy and more of her soul.
She thought she’d had enough.
But no, the voices continue to whisper…
“Twenty patties, twenty patties, with ANGRY MOTHERFUCKING ONIONS.”
I think my epic burger career is over.