You just got something from McDonald's, and there's a pair of figures by the door; who are they, and what do they want?

Solution
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they’re just standing there... menacingly...
“Wut eez a king to a peeyair of gods?”

”Что такое бог для неверующего?”
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FBI agents who have been tracking me as I've gone from McDonalds to McDonalds, breaking all the ice cream machines I come across.
 
Niggers by the door, and they want absolutely nothing but my McDonald's, watermelon, fried chicken and Kool-Aid.
 
They're lumpy looking fat Hispanic chicks, probably in their mid-30s (could be far less, they age like milk). They're wearing stained clothes and yoga pants from Goodwill, and one of them has a little snot-nosed toddler trotting behind them. Are the two grown women related? Is the kid half-black? Who knows. It's one of life's many mysteries.

All you know for sure is that you've seen them before. Not them specifically, but this sort of "template" of customer. Everyone has.

They want an excessive amount of food, and a Happy Meal for their brat (which they'll mooch off of as well). Five minutes after they walk in, they'll both start yelling over each other at the pimple-faced cashier about not getting enough fries, but I'll have walked out the door and promptly forgotten about them by then.
 
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