ITT we post our best copypasta. I'll start:
A man walks alone through the silent quarters of his apartment. It's 4:45 in the morning, and there remains a short while before the sun begins to rise. The muffled sounds of car horns and the occassional yell are heard, and lights reflect all around. Restless and unable to get any sleep, the man moves toward his bedroom window to catch a glimpse of the outside.
In the distance, he sees the tall, stately figure of the Burger King standing still in the middle of a deserted street. For a moment, the King looks up and the two share a glance. Horrified at what he has just observed, the man turns around, blinks, and rubs his eyes to ensure himself that he is only hallucinating. He remembers this having happened before, and with a vague sense of what would come next, he is overwhelmed by a sudden dread.
When he finally brings himself to turn back, the man is confronted by a giantesque form of the King standing before the building, his amplified visage no less than two feet away from the window. The cold, plastic, motionless features of the King's twisted grin temporarily paralyze the man's ability to react in any form. He forces his eyes to close again, sweat dribbling down his forehead, and after a few moments he opens them again, but he now finds himself in bed.
It is now daybreak, and it appears the horrible ordeal was little more than a malicious product of his own subconscious. Having regained his composure, the man gets out of bed and prepares for the day ahead, the memory of his nightmare commanding a strong presence over his thoughts. However, upon setting foot into his kitchen, the dreaded icon stood before him once again. This time, he stands in the way of the man's refrigerator, his arms behind his back.
The man stumbles backwards, unaware for that moment that he is confined to the small space of his residence, with no immediate escape in sight. When he hits the wall behind him, he realizes his impending fate, and slumps down to the floor, cowering. The King approaches the crumpled figure of the man, and extends his right arm toward him, an obscured object in his hand. In what may be the final moments of his life, the man stares straight ahead with eyes and mouth wide open.
After several moments, he notices that the King hasn't moved at all, his arm still reaching out. Letting down his guard, the man exhales heavily. He takes a moment to observe the regal offering: a paper-wrapped breakfast sandwich.