It was under the advice of an enviornmentalist that the two girls embarked on their journey that night. He was a wise man, knowledgeable in many things, including the conservation of grapes. He sat on the couch, smiling at them, and in his infinite wisdom said "I think you should go".
The enviornmentalist was never wrong, having spent much of his time partaking in spiritual activities such as sampling the juice of fermented grapes, neither girl was in a position to argue with him. The enviornmentalist then turned on his heel and left to go tend to his daily routine.
Sarah and Clare then looked at each other and headed to the car. They had a long journey ahead of them that neither was prepared for. It was cold, the wind was bitter, and it was getting colder as the minutes passed. They sat side by side, quietly contemplating the ramifications of the journey that lay ahead of them.
It would be long. It would be tiring. It would be scary.
And both were up for the challenge.
Beside each other in the car, the minutes dragged like hours, hours seemed to go on for eternities. The miles crept by, and at one point Clare thought she saw a little old lady pass them with her walker.
They went on. The radio cut in and out, the music got increasingly bad, but they pressed on. Nothing was going to stop them.
The wind was blowing harder now as they pulled over to take a break. Behind the glass at the gas station, a prophet, probably named Edna, sat, smoking a Marlboro Red, glaring at the rack of twinkies.
Edna exhaled, a long stream of grey smoke pouring from her wrinkled mouth.
"Joliet" is all she said.
The girls silently got back into the vehicle.
"Well?" Clare asked. She was tired, her eyes were starting to get dry, and her ass had fallen asleep 10 mile markers ago.
"We've come too far to turn back now" Sarah said, with what one can assume was the last bit of energy she had.
They continued on, an eternity later, pulling off onto the Joliet exit.
The roads were dark, and scary, and both girls had a hard time remembering that looking at other people's cars at stoplights was strictly a custom from their homeland, not this foreign place.
The road was endless. Mile after mile of car lot, gas station and strip malls was wearing on both of our protagonists.
They were almost at the end of the road.
And so far, nothing.
Not a single thing.
Were both the prophet and enviornmentalist wrong?
And there, in the distance, they saw it.
It called to them both.
Shining in bright contrast against the sky, it stood, waiting for them.
And it was beautiful.
"We need 20 sliders, 2 fries, and 2 medium sodas".
The girls ate until they could not eat anymore.
The prophet and enviornmentalist were right.
It was a hard, long, tiring journey.
Upon return both girls fell into their beds, stomachs full of the greasiest, most disgusting hamburgers in all of creation.
And they enjoyed every bite.
Some people say it's silly. Other's say we are too influence by the media. Clare and Sarah, however, are simply biding their time until their next epic journey.