Of course, the flame decals that run down both sides of the car look great. Flame decals always make a car look cool. Plus, the twenty dollar Wal Mart spinners on three of the four tires make it ballin’.

Anyway, Gecko is driving through the drive-thru of McDonalds. He has been patiently waiting in line during the busy rush lunch hour, eagerly awaiting his turn to order a smooth tasting vanilla milkshake and two apple pies, fresh from the oven. Honestly, what is better than two apple pies fresh from the oven? Finally, the person in front of him finishes ordering one of every item offered on the rather extensive menu, then changing their mind every other minute. They pull forward (“First window, please!”) and Gecko makes his slow, carefully calculated advance. Then, it happens.

He drops his wallet, and it bounces under his seat.

Cursing, Gecko stops his car and leans forward to pick up his wallet. He reaches for it, trying to bend his neck and head upward to avoid being squished by the steering wheel (which is also slightly ragged looking, by the way). He pats around the carpet under his seat, getting slightly aggravated now. The car behind him starts to edge forward, creeping slowly closer in a passive-aggressive attempt to usher Gecko forward to the order menu.

Gecko has given up trying to look cool about his situation. He now has his head plastered to his steering wheel, desperately trying to locate his renegade wallet. Unfortunately, all he can feel is miscellaneous objects that were previously dropped: Coins of random amounts, receipts, French fries of McDonalds past, long forgotten paper clips, sealing wax, cabbages, and Kings. Still no wallet.

The line behind Gecko’s car has grown around the building. The standard Atlanta attitude towards anything not moving at the speed of light has ensued. Everyone is honking, waving their arms, giving the finger, shouting obscenities, and being the general jackass. Gecko is clearly flustered now; his face is getting redder with every honk and swear that comes from behind him.

Success! Gecko finally feels his wallet, way way under his seat, practically in the backseat’s foot area! Grinning with joy, Gecko begins to pull his entire arm out from under the driver’s seat, success and food nearly at hand. Then, something else happens.

His hand gets stuck. What seems to have happened is that while clenching his wallet, Gecko’s hand is too big to fit through the gap between his seat and the floor. Gecko’s expression is that of utter defeat. Will this ever end? Will Gecko get his food without being lynched? Let us continue on.

Gecko starts aggressively trying to pull his hand out from its tight prison. The situation is just not getting any better. In fact, it is getting worse! Cursing quite severely now, and with quite a sharp tongue, Gecko takes a deep breath and pulls his hand outward as hard as he can. Straining against the very laws of physics, chemistry, astronomy, astrology, algebra one and two, the Patriot Act, and gravity themselves, Gecko’s hand starts sliding out from under the seat, wallet tightly gripped between his eager little fingers.

Success! Gecko now has his wallet out from under his foam-exposed car seat! He gives a sigh of relief and starts to lift himself back into driving position. All he can hear is the completely stereotypical sound of Big City anger behind him, but it does not phase him at all. In just a few moments, he will taste the sweet taste of apple pies, and wash it down with the sugar coldness of a vanilla milkshake. Oh, sweet, sweet milkshake. Then, it happens.

As Gecko begins to sit up, he is jerked to a stop. He appears confused. He tries to sit up in his seat again, and again is forced to stop. He rolls his eyes down in their sockets, goes cross eyed, and then sees the problem at hand. Or, should I say, the problem at neck. Now, his necklace, which his mother gave to him when he was six years old and has a small gecko on a metal chain has slipped between through the steering wheel and hooked itself on the windshield wiper on and off lever. Gecko is furious. This just cannot be happening! The smell of apple pies is gently carried in through the open windows. Gecko swears in his head that he can hear the milkshake machine stirring up all that tasty vanilla ice cream. He bites his lip, grabs his balls, and sits up as hard as he can. Then, it happens.

As he sits up in a fit of rage, his necklace flicks up the stick and turns on the windshield wipers on high power, plus the windshield cleaner fluid is now being sprayed at his windshield. To top it all off, the on and off stick is now broken off and dangling from his necklace. Gecko sits for a moment, trying to regain his composure while assessing the situation. A car behind him honks one last time before taking off around and then in front of him, cutting in line. Gecko just closes his eyes and sighs while his windshield starts to leak the blue stuff through all the cracks in itself.

He then gets his chance to order, and does so. Two apple pies and one vanilla milkshake are now being prepared for him. It was a battle, but Gecko rarely loses, even if his own car is the opponent. He pays at the first window, all the while getting the crazy eye from the register lady. He pulls to the second window and patiently awaits his food’s arrival. He flicks on the radio as a McDonald’s employee opens the window to hand him his food.

“Monday, Monday, Monday! This Monday, Xtreme Wrestling Federation’s MASSACRE is guaranteed to blow your socks off! This Monday, watch as up and comer DEWAYNE CARTER gets his chance at the HART TITLE as he faces current champion, long time fan favorite, GECKO! DEWAYNE CARTER has been rumored to be working out every day, all day in preparation for this chance to push himself into another, bigger division of the XWF! Does he stand a chance? Watch MASSACRE on MONDAY NIGHT!”

Gecko pauses as he listens to this radio advertisement. He looks at the two apple pies, then pats his stomach. He seems to think for a moment before letting out an exasperated sigh. He pulls forward to the trashcan, tosses his fast food away, and pulls forward out of McDonald’s parking lot, windshield wipers wiping away, and drives off to the gym.

End scene.