Shake Shack

We like to drive to the Shake Shack and watch the waitresses skate from car to car, taking orders and bringing out trays of shakes and fries and burgers.
“Push the call button,” says Pops. “Everybody smile.”
A waitress rolls out to our car, and Joey grabs a hold of her hand, clamps a steel handcuff over her wrist, and latches it on to the car’s frame.
“Let’s roll,” says Pops.
We start off slow, so we can hear the waitress scream, but Pops says “Floor it.”
Eventually the wheels break apart.
Fast food is bad for you, you know.