Ahem! My great commission, your mission, is to go out and serve the people food! That’s what the boss said anyway, however, this vague instruction was open to interpretation and most employees, especially the higher educated ones, took it to mean, stay inside and entertain yourselves. So it was that these fashionable ones expended great efforts to gather together in exclusive cliques of their own kind, gathering together in corners of the kitchen where disco could be danced and bell-bottom jeans worn for the benefit of all mankind. For the moment all was well! The boss was gone and the beats were programmed and unchanging. If there was a problem among these cliques of cool it was that plaid shirts were being worn over striped pants by some of the more radical members…Some conservatives said plaid and stripes didn’t belong together at all while some of the more liberal members thought that plaid and stripes together were alright, if practiced in moderation. One or two oddballs said that both the liberals and conservatives were behaving like idiots, but these people were soon given the label of free thinkers and shunned as they deserved. Indeed. The struggle over style never goes out of style. Meanwhile, just outside the drive in restaurant, the poor and lost huddled together, struggling for survival in the bitter chill of winter, forgotten in a swirling chaos of hungry customers. Some angry customers were on their smart phones, calling the boss to come down and fix this mess. Despite the gathering storm just outside their building, the general rule of thumb among these fashionable fast food employees was, if the outsiders are smart they’ll make the effort to become insiders. If they aren’t smart, we don’t need them anyway. Besides, there was far too much work to be done here inside the sacred building. Afros needed to be grown to an acceptable height! Sunglasses needed to be fitted and refitted until a pair was found to be fitting! Finally, who could forget the new main mission, the great commission…of KC and the Sunshine Band, to get down tonight! For these fashionable ones, the boogeyman was not someone to be feared, but someone to become. As the night came alive to the sound of The Bee Gees, the dance floor of the fast food kitchen filled with a multitude of boogeymen and women, all laboring to make their community a better place…by dancing around the real issues…Meanwhile just outside the fast food joint, the poor and lost remained, muttering with anger, asking themselves the questions that revealed the depths of their ignorance. Didn’t disco die back in the 70s? How can we kill it again? Weren’t these employees told to come out and serve us our food? How can fast food be so slow? What is going on in that kitchen anyway? What’s going to happen to this disco when the boss comes back?