Michael Hamburger. 36-years-old. McDonalds employee. Psychopath
Warning: This story contains scenes of a graphic nature, involving: rape, torture, mass-murder of animals and humans alike, and sadism.
The Mis-adventures of Michael Hamburger
July isn't just another month in London, England, especially the 26th of the month: the school kids are finished for August, and ready to become more and more obese over Summer, spending their pocket money at McDonalds. Kids of all ages, doughy, flabby and stinking of phlegm and the jizz they left in their underwear from their morning wanks will enter in masses ready to order a Big Mac, maybe a full large meal - a free coca-cola glass with your single serving of heart-attack.
Our anti-hero hears his alarm clock buzzing loudly. He reaches his right hand from under the covers; a dark brown coating is all that can be seen across his palm as he slams his hand down onto the alarm, causing it to stop. He sits up, rubs his eyes and realises he's just smeared sh*t all over his face.
ĒTalk about getting sh*t-faced!" He grins, inside his mind asking himself why he just said that. A single tear drops from his right eye onto his yellow corn-flower bedsheets. He stands up and breathes in hard through his nose, sucking in all the snot. He can't have mother seeing him cry over something so perverted and silly now, can he?
"I made you coffee, just the way you like it," his elderly mother says in a shrill voice, greeting her 36-year-old Hamburgler of a son as he entered the kitchen. He snatches the cup from her hand and takes a gulp, scolding his mouth and throwing the cup directly at her face, causing her to scream.
"You dirty f*ckin' skank!" Michael grabs her by the false teeth, keeping her mouth wide open, spitting into her mouth before head-butting her unconcious. She falls to the floor and cracks her spine against the kitty dish half-full with four-day-old milk. "How many more times, mother! I'm the Hamburgler! I refuse to be burned by coffee!" he yells, hearing his own voice crack and feeling his throat raw. He stomps on her face for good measure.
Kicking his bathroom door open, he grabs his toothbrush and shoves it to the back of his throat, gagging himself as he bursts back out the door, hearing Motown playing on his radio as he enters back into his room. He thumps his radio, "I turned you off you sick mother f*cker," he says, snarling his teeth at the now broken radio alarm combo clock he got from Asda for £5.99. He quickly throws his working costume on, mask and all. He can't disappoint any children at today's big birthday bash in McDonalds.
He arrives at work, 37 seconds late. He walks through the back door, carrying his bag over his shoulder as his boss, a balding, stocky fat man no taller than 4 foot 6 stops him. "You're f*ckin' late again. And you stink of sh*t, what, again!? What the f*ck is wrong with you, Hamburger!?"
"I apologise, Mr. Winters," sincerely he drops down to one knee. "Forgive me, please?" Mr. Winter's shakes his head and throws his arms up as he turns around and walks away. "Don't forget, party in five minutes, Hamburger. Get ready and have a f*ckin' wash, God," he shouts, walking away.
Michael gets up and grins, laughing to himself: "I'll get you one day, Ben. One day, I'll wank onto your very soul," he chuckles and puts his hand in the deep-fat fryer, feeling his pants become wet and his eyes roll back into his head as he moans and sighs.
Kids begin gathering of many ages all around the tables of the eat-in McDonalds joint, all of them wearing cheesy yellow crowns, and the birthday boy, five-year-old Timmy Tomkins in a red one, reading 'Birthday Boy'. Usual cashiers are handing out their food; chicken nuggets and around a mouthful and a half of fries. One cashier slips and falls, banging her elbow on the corner of a table, but she makes little to no fuss as she quickly hurries along to the burger grills around back.
"I banged my elbow again! Can you believe it?" almost too cheery she shoots the question to Michael, whose hand is now bandaged up. Michael pushes past her and snarls as he jumps over the counter, yelling "Give me all the Hamburgers, ha-ha!" The kids jump back in fear, as the employee dressed as Ronald McDonald, holding a tray of plastic burgers starts running around the place, as the kids cheer for him.
Michael begins running after the Ronald McDonald impersonator, as a young chinese boy trips him over, causing his cape to cover his head and his mask to fly off to the kids' delight. They cheer and shove mcnuggets into their soon-to-be obese triple chin mouths as Michael gets onto his knees and begins crying.
"You made me cum," he weeps; his trousers drenched once more. He turns to the young chinese boy. "Why?" The chinese boy looks at his mother, a look of terror in his eyes, as Ronald McDonald comes over.
"Ronald, my old friend," Michael stands up, "did you see what he did to me?" Michael grabs a plastic burger from the actor of Ronald's tray and starts slashing at the young chinese boy's eyes as everyone screams in horror, blood spraying everywhere from the sharp plastic lettuce sticking from the side of the burger. He throws the plastic burger on the floor and picks the young chinese boy up by the neck and slams him into the floor, causing his spine to jolt through his neck; killing him instantly as Michael continues to gouge his eyes out with his thumbs, everyone screaming, his mother passed out from an overdose of fear.
Michael stands up, hearing sirens in the distance, he begins running.
Michael bursts down a broken down alley, his vision almost sepia tone and his mouth tasting of battery acid where he's outrun every siren within a two-mile radius of him. He slows down and coughs up some blood and spits it to the pavement below, and hears a dog barking. He looks to his left and sees a haggard, beaten-up old stray dog with an elderly bum - keeping each other company with only a few years, or months left in them both.
"Spare...some change?" the bum wheezes as Michael takes out his Hamburgler mask he picked up before running from McDonalds earlier and gives it to the homeless tramp, stinking of cod-liver oil and aids.
"This will keep you safe," Michael assures the man before jumping onto the bum's head, knee first, both of them tightly locked together. The bum begins trembling in fear as blood coats his vision, and the patchy brown stray dog begins barking at Michael.
"I'm terribly sorry," Michael cries, tightly gripping the bum's hands, tears streaming down his face. "This has been hard on us both, I know, but we can't go on living a lie." Michael dries the tears from his eyes and smiles. Michael reaches into his pocket and takes out a 50 pence coin, and the bum forgets everything just moments ago at the sight of the shiny silver piece, glowing in Michael's hand. The tramp extends his hands and cheers as Michael quickly kneels down and pushes the silver coin into the bum's left eye.
"I'll always love you," Michael says, forcing the coin into the bum's eye, as the dog howls and the bum shrieks and coughs, blood pouring from his eye socket which is now being occupied by a 50p, queens head facing outwards and all. Michael looks towards the snarling dog and grabs it by the back legs and snaps them both in two with his bare hands, hearing the dog murmur and weep. He clenches its mouth shut and picks it up by the ribcage and begins running away with it.
Michael quickly opens his front door before the neighbors can see him carrying the injured stray dog. He goes inside and closes it behind him, seeing his mother trying to get up from the floor; dry blood covers her entire face. He runs over to her and does a front-flip onto her head, crushing her skull into the ground and putting her into what can only be described as a 'vegetable-state'. The dog continues to weep and wince as Michael stands up, pieces of his mother's hair stuck to the back of his black cape from where he just landed on her.
Michael creeps into his bedroom and shuts the door and locks it and drops the dog to the floor. He runs over to his closet and opens it up and takes out a plastic bag that engulfs the entire room in month-old cum and stale alcohol. He takes the bag and opens it wide and shoves it over the dog's head and tenses his grip around the dog's neck, as it kicks its two working legs around for a moment before passing out. Michael takes his hands from the dog's throat, leaving the bag over its head and unbuttons his trousers.
Michael pulls out his smegma covered, bruised penis, still flaccid he slides it into the dog's asshole and begins thumping the dog in the stomach, which causes him to become hard whilst inside the dog's asshole. He begins to take a piss inside of the dog and he notices a stanley knife on his counter beside his broken alarm clock. He takes it with his right hand and digs it into the dog's asshole and begins slicing it.
He makes a hole 4x the size of his asshole before putting the stanley knife to the dog's penis and cutting it off, jaggedly, letting it fall onto the bedsheets and cover in blood before snatching it up and putting it into his mouth and letting his eyes fall back into his skull before ejaculating into the dog. He rams the stanley knife and his entire fist into the dogs stomach, punching a hole through it and killing it, if it weren't already dead.
Michael exits his bathroom, all clean and refreshed. He enters into his kitchen, still in his Hamburgler outfit, he looks down at his mother; her mouth wide open and choking on her own windpipe. He jumps through the air and legdrops her across the bridge of her nose, causing it to explode and blood to leak into her mouth. He stands up and looks on the counter and sees tickets for the zoo; was his mother going to treat him to a day out at the zoo?
He picks his nose and wipes it on his cape and picks the tickets up and exits the house.