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Ordering a "royale" is like telling the cashier, "Give me the deluxe experience, but just for the next 10 minutes until I finish this meal in my car.
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Ordering a large soda with a "royale" feels like I'm preparing for a hydration marathon. It's not just a drink; it's a commitment to frequent bathroom breaks.
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Ever notice how upgrading to a "royale" at a fast-food joint feels like you're giving your meal a promotion? Like, congratulations, burger, you're now the CEO of my lunch!
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The "royale" is like the James Bond of fast food – it leaves you satisfied but wondering if you could have handled something a bit more subtle.
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You ever notice how the "royale" always comes with a large fries? It's like they're saying, "Here's a big burger, now here's a pile of fries to go with your newfound commitment to napkin consumption.
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After finishing a "royale" meal, I always go through a phase of self-reflection. It's like I need to apologize to my salad at home for cheating on it with a more sophisticated burger.
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Ordering a "royale" on a date is a bold move. It's like saying, "I'm not just here for a good time; I'm here for a long time, and so is my digestive system.
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The "royale" is the perfect metaphor for relationships – it looks impressive on the menu, but you only truly understand it once you're in it, wrestling with the consequences.
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Going through the drive-thru and ordering a "royale" is like entering a culinary VIP lounge. I half-expect a red carpet to roll out as I approach the pickup window.
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