Teddy Thunders posted:

[Scene: a dimly lit fast food restaurant in the middle of the Tehachapi Mountains, five AM. You are alone. You approach the counter. A mechanical clicking and whirring begins. The dessicated corpse of Worker, suspended from cables leading into the ceiling, is brought out from a sliding wall.]

Worker (from a crackling radio around the corpse's neck): Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh, it is, Arby's. Have some meats.

[A large pile of shaved protein is shoved into your mouth by a robotic arm attached to the worker's back.]


Worker: Biscuits. You will ingest biscuits.

[Small, hard discs of indeterminate origin pelt your face. You open your mouth to protest, but the biscuits enter your body. You feel them writhing down your throat, descending into your stomach, where they quickly multiply and swell your body in preparation for The Sauce.]

Worker: Please enjoy your breakfast sauce.

[A yellowish-gray slurry is pumped into your throat via a sluice, jammed into your face, descending from the ceiling.]

Worker: mmm mmmm, that is some meat.

[Your blood is thick with the meats. Your organs are failing. Your eyes become heavy and your lungs gasp for air as you become one with the breakfast menu.]