Like the end of Ghostbusters, but streaked with blood
"Through high school and into college, I worked at a hot dog stand in Chicago called Fluky's. Somewhat surprisingly, it was a great job. The employees were a mix of high school students, burnouts, and illegal immigrants, and when we weren't just eating ridiculous amounts of food in the back, we generally just horsed around, drinking and smoking pot in the alley. I mean, everyone else drank and smoked pot -- I was way too boring in high school. Anyway, if the owner wasn't in the office, nothing would get done.
"So one Saturday, I'm working the drive-thru and it's slammed. We'd just gotten it put in, and it was the only hot dog place within miles with a drive-thru, so if anyone wanted a hot dog and didn't want to get out of the car, we were it. These were the days before electronic orders, so we had to call burgers and Polish sausage into the grill, and get the rest ourselves.
"In the middle of this huge rush, these guys come through the drive-thru. The owner of the place was in the office, and the drive-thru was piped in there, so he heard everything. They ordered a ton of food: burgers, fries, and drinks. The order came out to over $30, which in 1993, was a crap-load of food. In the middle of the rush, it took forever, and the cars were backed up the entire length of the drive-thru. There was a curb, so there wasn't even a way to pull out, and the lot was filled, so there was nowhere for them to go. It took about 10 minutes to get their food, which is an eternity on the drive-thru, with cars honking behind them and people coming up to the window to yell at us.