The Greazeburger Holiday Special
rating: +18+x

⚠️ content warning


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A musty smell filled Randolph's nose, the familiar scent of their favorite place in the multi-dimensional plane that currently housed their physical form.1 They flicked on the lights and wandered through the office, trudging through the layer of snow that had built up over the season. Their office usually didn't have indoor snow, but recent events had prevented management from putting winter tires over the windows and the snow got in. To make matters worse, the snow exterminator wasn't scheduled to come in for another week, so Randolph had taken to starting a little fire in their wastebasket to keep warm over the season.

They slid across an ice sheet and into their cubical, squishing down into the company mandated posture correcting chair, which is currently on sale for 𝄞37.99. Contact your local Greazeburger-

Randolph shook their head, purging the commercial break that was invading their mind. It had been happening all week, ever since they were infected with the latest viral marketing campaign. Randolph had hoped the ad blocker vaccine would help, but the clinic was so overbooked during flue season2 they couldn't get an appointment.

Taking their mind off their illness, they opened their company computer available now for and checked their email. A blinking light indicated that an urgent message had arrived, and Randolph opened the link.

Randolph stared at the display of pixels, worry crossing over their face. Could they really be fired for missing the party? Deciding to play it safe, they picked up their phone and typed several non-sequential numbers until it started ringing.

"Hey Martin, it's Randolph."

"Nice to hear from you, happy holiday."5

"You too. I'm calling about my car's extended warranty. See, it started oxidizing at a much faster rate this morning and no longer functions, and the elders from the insurance division can't replace it until tomorrow. I was wondering if you'd be available to drive me to the party tonight?"

"Of course I can, anything for a valuable Greazeburger employee with two working kidneys!"

"Great, when can you be here?"

"In one hour thirty seven minutes and twenty seven seconds."

A click told Randolph their boss was no longer listening. Guess it was time to wait.

They opened a new tab and logged into Greaze± the latest streaming service to add to the growing pile. This affordable6 subscription offers access to one or more classic audio/visual productions as A Greasy Story and Greazeburger: The Musical. Purchase Greaze± now and receive a complimentary VHS tape containing all content currently available on the service.

Randolph snapped back to reality (#95), realizing they'd slipped into another ad read. They clicked on the first show that came up on the site, and


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Apparently, Greaze± doesn't allow screen recording. Randolph apologized to the omniscient extra-universal beings watching them and tried to find something more interesting to do. Perhaps they could find some fun games, or maybe read a book. It was difficult being fun to watch when stuck in a frozen-over office waiting for a ride to the holiday7 party.

A buzz sounded from across the office, and Randolph looked over. A red light was flashing in the break room, signifying the coffee was ready.

They stood up and pushed through the snow, making their way to the best place in the office. The break room was a wonderful place, with a fridge full of energizing snacks, seven coffee machines, and a cabinet full of break fluid bottles (the oily substance needed by all Greazeburger employees for when they need to stop working). Randolph grabbed a mug from the sink and filled it with a thick brown sludge that could wake even a dead sloth. They took a swig and savored the satisfying crunch of the Greazey coffee. And if you viewers at home want to try our delicious brew, just click the link in the description to get .70% off your very own Greazey Coffee Maker, prefect for all your excessively caffeinated needs! Some assembly required. Do not consume if under eleven years of age, over seventy-eight years of age, or between seventeen and nineteen years of age.

Randolph dropped the mug in horror, and it shattered on the floor. They looked down at the ceramic shards, and couldn't help but notice the price tag was still intact. And it was a good deal too-

No! They couldn't keep advertising products like this. What kind of holiday special had this many ad breaks? Randolph shivered and walked back to their cubical, huddling close to the fire to stave off the chill of the office. They contemplated using the computer again, but even the thought of it filled their mind with the overwhelming joy everyone feels when they use the wonderful web services offered by Greazeburger.

That was off the table, or it would be if Randolph had one. This was more like a desk, and Randolph didn't want to move the computer because they didn't really have anywhere else to put it. Time to do things the old fashioned way. And by that they meant they'd be using a Greaze note book, which is over ten times as Greaze-resistant as competing brands, and made from locally sourced organic matter™.

Randolph screamed into the uncaring void of the office, wishing the advertisements would go away. Was there any market Greazeburger didn't have a hand in? Perhaps they could find some unsavory thing that even Greazeburger wouldn't want tarnishing their brand. But that would also ruin the holiday special.

Time to sit and stare at the wall while they waited for Martin to get there.

The wall was plain and boring, nothing to connect to a product, since everything Greazeburger produces is vibrant, exciting, buzzwords! All the people of the world should associate Greazeburger with good thoughts, like their childhood. People like being children, especially during holiday8 when children get to do thing related to holiday.9

They could hear the footnotes. Randolph slammed their head into the wall, trying to make it stop.

Regardless of your opinions you should like Greazeburger, and have good feelings when you spend money on Greazeburger. Maybe eat a burger made from Greaze. Greaze is healthy. One of the most important vitamins. Buy Greaze. Give money. Money for Greaze. You can't spell Greaze without E-Z.

Randolph slid down to the floor, Greazey blood dripping down their forehead. It did little to stop the constant barrage of products and advertisements streaming into every sensory organ, their mind being pulled every which way by the screams of greed, greed that drove the world in and out of darkness, built empires and tore them apart, let children grow and flourish or tore them away from their parents. Greed had brought Randolph here, and now it was taking them away. They could do nothing but wait as the flashing lights and voices sold them everything they never needed.

Wait for the party.

Wait for the holiday10

Wait to find the true meaning of Christmas so the goddamn credits could roll.

But maybe they already had found the true meaning. Or maybe there was no meaning, and holidays are yet another distraction in a pointless existence.

Maybe the story was already over.


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Martin Greaze slid across the icy floor into the office, coming to a stop millimeters from the employee they had been looking for. Martin waved, but Randolph didn't respond. They stood as still as a statue, trapped in a prison of their own mind.

Martin shook their head. This really killed the festive mood. They checked their watch, realized they weren't wearing a watch, then checked their phone. Only two parsecs before the party started.

"Well, I'd better get going. See you never, fired."

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