Every stopped by McDonald’s to use the toilets? You might want to think again…
Good old McDonalds. You can always count on them for a toilet when all else fails. I told Molly my wife to wait for me outside and nipped in. The place was busy so I didn’t feel very conspicuous, and walked quickly to a door on the left hand side marked ‘toilets’. The door led to a long, empty corridor which I followed, turning left at the end, where I was met with another door. I pushed the door open and was surprised to find a smiling young girl behind a bare, steel desk. She was dressed in the standard McDonalds beige and black uniform, with an overly large cap dwarfing her freckled face. I hesitated, stopping before the desk, and then spoke. “Er, sorry, I must have the wrong place. I was looking for the toilets.”
She nodded her head vigorously, her smile now even wider than before, and then pushed a clipboard on the desk towards me. “Of course, sir, please sign here.”
“No,” I replied, “you don’t understand. I just need the toilet.”
The young girl cocked her to one side, her eyebrows furrowed with practiced empathy. “Certainly sir, but there is no misunderstanding. This is now McDonalds corporate policy. Health and safety regulations. I hope you understand.”
Good grief, I thought, what next? What was this world coming to? Sighing, I leaned forward, took the proffered pen from the young girl and signed the form without reading it.
“Thank you, sir,” said the girl, taking the signed form from the clipboard and popping it into a chute where it was sucked away. “Now it you’d just like to wait a moment, someone will be with you shortly.”
“What?” I replied incredulously, slightly louder than I meant to. “I don’t need to be accompanied, just show me where to go!”
The young girl nodded, and was about to reply when a male voice spoke from my left. “This way, sir.”
I turned to see another uniformed youngster, a boy with strong cheeks and downy brown eyes framed in steel rimmed glasses. He too was wearing a ridiculously large cap. He beckoned to yet another door and started walking, watching me carefully all the time. We reached the door, which he held open for me, letting me enter ahead of him. As I walked past him, I noticed an unusual smell about him that I could not place. The doorway opened to a large white room with a metal trolley standing against a wall. I turned to protest when everything suddenly went black.
I woke later to find myself lying naked on the trolley, my arms and legs strapped to the side, neon lights moving past my now aching head. I turned my head to find another capped youngster pushing the trolley, but this time dressed in a white overcoat. I began to speak but then found I could not – my mouth had been taped shut. The youngster looked down at me, smiling reassuringly. “It won’t be long now.”
Until what? my mind screamed. Where were they taking to me? What was going on? Furiously I tried to wrench my arms and legs from their restraints, but to no avail, so I lay still, biding my time.
After what seemed an age, the trolley pushed against a door and we entered a large room filled with gently humming machinery. The youngster pushed the trolley towards a rectangular archway in the nearest machine. Stepping away, he pushed a green button on the silver panel next to us. I found myself suddenly lifted and flipped from the trolley, my bonds having been automatically loosened. I was tossed onto a conveyer belt inside the bowels of the machine, moving slowly towards a shredded rubber curtain. I tried to scramble backwards but slipped on the slick surface of the conveyor belt. The hum of the machinery had increased in intensity to a dull roar. I was pushed through the curtain, and towards two large swinging cutting wheels. I tried to clamber backwards frantically, scarcely noticing the bloodied hand prints on the walls, but was drawn inevitably towards the spinning blades. I closed my eyes and waited, resigned to my grisly fate, and thought of Molly waiting outside.
I hoped she’d have the sense not to order a burger. I now knew what they put in those things.
Short Fiction - I’m lovin’ it – Flash Fiction Writing