'Murica

A man sits in his orange scooter, wheezing as he speedily bursts from one of the many greasy McDonald's that is only a mere 5 minutes away. He takes another deep breath, but begins to hack profusely. Once he has gathered his noxious breath, he begins to continue his strenuous ride home. As he rides faster and faster, the American flag ripples just like his belly fat. His elastic sweat pants have expanded to its max and about to tear. He wears a elegant trucker's cap and underneath it lies a barren head with no hair in sight, except for the pathetic smear of hair below his nose that he calls a mustache. The wheels begin to cringe under the pressure of all the cardboard-like cheeseburgers and oily fries he has inhaled over his long 28 year life. He has a breast cancer sticker on his scooter to show that deep inside, below all that thick, chunky fat lies a caring heart, yet he does not know what cancer is nor shows any other signs of intelligence on the topic. Mounted on top of his scooter is a rather large machine gun. He fires off warning shots to his friendly neighbors as a sign of superiority, although unnecessary since he has such a formidable look. When he arrives home, he will be greeted by his loving wife that only nags at him 24/7. This time, he is spared from a heated argument, because he brought home some "fresh" food from Wal-Mart. He tries to get out of his seat, yet finds himself locked in. He begins to panic, but then realizes that he has all that he needs right beside him.