In honor of National Hamburger Day, Glorious Leader bellied up to a hamburguesa torta at the Valle Verde Taqueria on Vine for a pregame snack, just minutes down the road from his Brew Crew’s next victory campaign.

Kim Scott Un tuned into the almighty GameChanger, immediately spitting out a wave of Grizzly and guac after seeing his soldiers were delayed to an 8 p.m. first pitch. Who authorized teenage baseball “playoffs” taking precedence over semi-professional man ball? He shook the Grizzly off his scowl in disgust of Kim Jong Bombs for allowing this, quickly dashing out the door to start his night of dashing.

Glorious Leader’s first stop of the night is the St. Bernard Pub, where he picks up a grease-soaked bag of burgers and waffle fries, salted with the tears of despair. He overhears a conversation from the bar about Detroit’s red-light urinals, aka intersections, as he grabs 15 waffle fries at once, shoving them into his face.

Glorious Leader is pleased of his Animal’s 1-2-3, 3-pitch inning, declaring it the “Animal Style Inning” in honor of his favorite Capitalist attempt of a hamburger. Declaring the battle won, he turns off the GameChanger as he heads to the door of his dash. Although, this time, it is not a door. It’s the fence to the dumpster at the Marathon on Mitchell for a guy named Drew.

Drew slinks out like Quasimodo, leaving his bike-riding methress behind the gate.

“Thanks, man. It’s been a good day today, but that took all of my cash. I can give you three hits if that helps.”

Glorious Leader turns his back in disgust, reminded of all his generosity he has given to these American seagulls in the past. It’s the first time he has been stiffed as a dasher, and he does not forget this night, as he moves on to the next dash.