Along our six hour trip back from Pittsburgh, my dad pulled over at a rest stop while I slept, dreaming of saving the world from Cthulhu-worshiping teddy bears.
I was basking in the glorious reward of a lifetime supply of bacon and Nutella, when he awoke me abruptly.
Apparently, a wild centaur appeared!
This man dressed in baggy basketball shorts and a maroon t-shirt was roaming the area wearing the head of a black horse.
I decided to take advantage of this situation by greeting him in my own Trollfessional attire. I quickly popped open the trunk then grabbed my handy dandy Burger King King Mask.
Waving my hand as I entered the building from the parking lot, I confidently walked up to this half-man/half-horse, as if he were a long-time friend of mine that I haven't seen in a while.
We shook hands and hugged -- a typical gesture of an awaited reunion. No words were spoken, but by using open hand gestures and leaning back, we gave the illusion of a friendly conversation. Body language between us said: "It's good to see you, man. How've you been?"
That's one rule I have when trolling with a mask: Don't talk. Ever. Sound effects (eg. neighing) is acceptable, but articulating words is NOT. The silence adds to the bizarre nature of the phenomenon.
The horse's friends remained confused, as they stood scratching heads, whispering if I was someone they all knew. Of course, I wasn't, but this fellow Trollfessional and I managed to fool them otherwise.
(I should note that none of the other people in the group wore a sexy mask. Not everyone is at this level of trolling.)
At any rate, one magnificent feature at this particular rest stop happened to be a Burger King. That's right, I was wearing a Burger King King mask standing in front of the fast food chain that spawned this creepy man of royalty.
Ordering some food from "my" restaurant was not only appropriate, it was necessary.
I stood at the counter for at least two and half minutes next to my noble steed, which an unacceptable amount of time for the f*cking KING of the franchise to wait. I take it no one wanted to deal with us.
Finally, Shirley Henderson's twin (if she had a twin), said to me in the most annoyed tone of voice, while twirling her ponytail, "Can I -- help you?" It was in that tone that a Catholic principal uses when she's disciplining children.
I was waiting for her to finish her sentence, but she just stared me impatiently -- her eyes unblinking. I began to wonder if this was a real person or just a robot, or at least a person with a severe health condition that prevented her from moving her eye lids.
I expected her to greet me with "...your royal majesty." Like, "Good to see you, your royal majesty. Can I help you, my lord? How can one serve of thee, your highness."
Nope. Nothing. I was greeted like just another sh*tty customer.
I simply nodded my head in response to her question. Again, no talking in the mask. She rolled her eyes and asked what I wanted. Through a series of hand gestures I told her I wanted a large fries.
Here I am: the goddamn Burger King King at Burger King, and I'm not offered a free whopper, yet alone a discount on an order of fries. Bullsh*t.
The BK employees were the most dull human beings I have come across on the face of the planet. Not one laugh, not one giggle, not even the slightest crack of a smile.
WHY SO SERIOUS?
After receiving my fries, I fed some to my pet horse, ate some myself, then gave him one last hug before both of us part our ways.
Til next time,
Stay classy. Stay sexy. Stay awesome. And keep on pwning, my friends.