"Hi, welcome to McDonald's. What can I get for you?" You stare at the menu, unsure of what to get. You've been staring at it the entire time you've been standing on line, but you can't seem to decide... Everything sounds so good.
"Yeah, uhh... One sec." The cashier shoots you an icy glare for holding up the line as you fish around in your pocket. A second or so later, you pull out what you've been looking for: a three-inch tall, miniature version of Police Lieutenant Frank Columbo. You set him on your shoulder, and ask him for his advice.
He takes a puff of his cigar as he stares at the menu; "Gee whiz, I dunno... Don't they got any chili at this joint?" You briefly look up at the menu to check, before looking back at him and shaking your head no. "Hmm, better go with the Bacon Quarter Pounder just to be safe."
You relay this to the worker at the cash register, only to be hit with another question you don't have the answers to. "...Do you want a meal, or just the sandwich?" You quickly look back over to Columbo.
"I always get the fries when I order fast food, but that's just 'cause Mrs. Columbo likes 'em and I know it'll make her happy... Me, I could get by a whole day on just one of those things, what with bein' three inches tall... But you, you'll need the energy in the coming days." It looks as though the entire world goes dark as Columbo finishes that last sentence, the oddly threatening and ominous statement making it seem as if Columbo knows about some upcoming apocalypse or existential threat that noone else does. You make the order a meal, scared of what will happen if you don't, and as you're about to tell the cashier that's all you want, Columbo chimes in again. "Oh, just one more thing. Could you get me a four pack of those chicken nuggets? I'll probably only eat but the one, and lord knows I can't have any sauce, but I figure you could just keep the rest of 'em for later."