Nameless Burgers

At the burger joint, people were gathered around to feast on the tasty burgers. Mothers and fathers bit into thick patties and luscious buns while small children piled french fries and M&Ms onto their smaller patties doused in ketchup and mustard, grinning with mayonnaise streaked smiles. They were the most famous burgers in town.

"Son," Father Angus, the eldest and most respected burger in the restaurant at 15 minutes old, "Being a burger in this restaurant is a privilege. You're made of the finest ingredients and grilled on the sleekest cooktop around. Perhaps someday you will achieve the status of being Rare like me."

"Oh father," the younger burger said, "I am only a medium well. Very few ever achieve rare status! I don't know that I could do as well as you can."

"Nonsense," the burger said, plumping up with pride and butter. "You come from a long line of respected burgers. I know you will make me proud. Are you ready?"

"I'm ready," the young burger said, trying not to show his nervousness as a spatula lifted him up into the air and onto a bun.

"Good luck, son!" his father cried as he was placed into a basket. "I wish you well!"

When he was placed on the counter, the chef looked at the baskets. "Hmmm," she said. Grabbing the microphone, she announced, "I have three nameless burgers, I have three nameless burgers."

The younger burger wanted to die. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" his father screamed from the grill. "Son, why have you brought dishonor to your family? How could you be nameless? That is the worst sin of being a burger! Our entire purpose is to serve those who love hamburgers, and you have failed!"

"I did not do it!" the young burger protested. "She can't read the basket right. There's a tag right there!"

"Twirl son!" the older burger yelled. "Twirl for your family!" The burger twisted and turned with all his might, and succeeded into flipping the basket around. Another worker walked up and looked at the basket. "Johann!" he yelled. "The name was right here." Grabbing the microphone, he announced, "I have an order for Bob. I have an order for Bob."

"You did it son!" his father cried proudly, weeping in joy. "You restored honor to the family name! I'm so proud of you!"

"Thank you father!" the burger cried as a man picked up his basket.

After all, a nameless burger is as much of a burger with a name.