The Colonel ain't f'in around

This evening, sensing my body was dangerously low in saturated fats and starch, I made a quick trip through the KFC drive thru for dinner.

I was especially thirsty having spent the previous two hours screaming at the television set, which was not coincidentally showing an Ohio State basketball game. The Buckeyes are really talented. They have managed to take one of my favorite sports and completely suck the fun right out of it. That takes effort.

Anywho, I was thirsty. The drink choices on the KFC menu read as such:

Medium
Large
Mega

Small? Fuck that shit, man. The Colonel doesn't offer small. Would you ask Van Halen to "turn it down a notch?" Would you tell Tom Cruise to lightly jog instead of sprint in every movie? Hell no.

Something in me snapped. If the Colonel offered, the Colonel offered for a reason. Was it to test my manhood or maybe my bladder?

Whatever. Bring it, Colonel.

"Mega" I offered up to my highly-skilled KFC employee on the other end of this scintillating conversation.

I waited my turn with a wry grin. Mega, my ass. Did they know who they were messing with? I had taken the the Large, Extra Large, the Biggie, the Gulp, the Big Gulp, the Super Big Gulp. I'd seen a million drinks and I'd, uh, dranked them all.

Finally, I gunned the GTI and raced forward 12 feet to the pick-up window. My highly-trained KFC counterpart handed me original three-piece dinner and gave me a knowing smile.

"It'll be just a second on your drink."

Wait? The food was ready before the drink?
Umm..

I don't know if there is a small industrial-strength crane stored inside every KFC drive-thru window, but there must be, because I don't know how else this pimply-faced, highly-paid KFC employee got the Mega up to the window.

She gripped it with two hands and thrust it through the window.

"Here's your drink."

I couldn't hold it with one hand. Shaquille O'Neal couldn't hold this f'in thing with one hand. It had a handle. I'm not joking. It had a bleeping handle.

Not only wouldn't it fit in my cupholders, I think I heard it laugh when I tried to slip into into the adjustable cupholder. Instead, I placed it into the passenger seat. Immediately, the GTI began listing starboard.

We struggled home. I had to use the handle to lug it inside.

All is not lost friends. I drank and I drank. And then I drank some more.

Four hours later the Mega was beaten.
And I think I am now a diabetic.

Excuse me, friends.
I have to pee. Again.