In case you were unaware, Wiggins hates the Dodgers. If Wiggins could speak Spanish he'd say, "Wiggins no le gustan Los Dodgers" or something along those lines. If the Dodgers were the last woman on earth and she said, "Dear Wiggins, let's have sex and repopulate the globe" Wiggins would push his junk up between his legs and pretend to be a woman while saying, "Wiggins isn't here. This is Bethany, a girl, and two girls can't repopulate the planet. Sorry." Then when she wasn't looking, Wiggins would throw a rock at her and run off laughing. That would be awesome.
Anyway, imagine Wiggins' disgust when he goes to Jack in the Box and orders a bacon cheeseburger (gotta show love for Gwynn!), pays for it, waits patiently, then some freaking guy wearing an LA cap comes out of the back and says in broken English, "Order 4-7. Order 4-7." (He didn't say "fortyseven" he said "four seven"). Wiggins almost didn't want to go get his food, but he paid nearly $7 and that's a lot of money to Wiggins, so he swallowed his pride and took the food, but he didn't say "thank you" to the damn Dodgers fan breathing so close to Wiggins' bacon cheeseburger.
Wiggins could hardly enjoy his meal. All he kept thinking is "Dodgers hands made this burger." It was like eating dog food. Wiggins' weekly Jack in the Box meal ritual ruined by his worst enemies. Wiggins had to enact his revenge somehow.
Suddenly, he had a brilliant idea. Coca Cola makes Wiggins have to take a dump, so he went back to the soda fountain machine and filled up his cup over and over, gulping down Coke like Chris Gwynn gulps down hash browns at an all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet. Before long, Wiggins got that familiar feeling in his tummy. Time to get down to business.
Wiggins headed over to the bathroom and found it locked. What's more, you had to put a quarter in to use it. Wiggins only had 13 cents left in his pocket. DAMN YOU, DODGERS. Wiggins went to the front counter to complain and who should be there but the jackass in the LA Dodgers cap. "Manager, please" Wiggins said while squeezing his buttchecks together to keep in the poop. "HURRY, MAN. MANAGER."
The Dodgers fan was clever, because he started speaking Spanish, pretending he didn't understand Wiggins. But Wiggins kept asking "Manager, please. Manager, por favor!" Finally some lady came out of the back. Wiggins began to argue that it was unfair he had to pay to use the bathroom because he was a customer. She pointed to a sign that said "Tokens provided for customers." Wiggins was feeling the sloppy joe knocking at the door and perhaps the lady manager could sense it. She quickly handed Wiggins a token and he waddled over to the bathroom as quick as possible, his gait affected by the looming poop explosion.
Wiggins BARELY made it onto the toilet before he unleashed an epic dump. There was almost an accident because Wiggins had to tkae a few moments to wipe up pee on the toilet seat since that stupid Dodgers fan was likely too lazy to keep the bathrooms clean. Obviously, it was probably his job, but maybe the manager didn't know how to say clean in Spanish. Not that doing so would matter. People who speak Spanish aren't bad or lazy. Just Dodgers fans.
Wiggins made sure to use a TON of toilet paper when he was done, unrolling almost the entire roll of it. And, wouldn't you know it, the toilet clogged on the first attempt. Wiggins hit the flush a couple more times and watched as the water level rose and began to spill over. Success!
Wiggins ran out of the Jack in the Box saying, "You might want to check the bathroom! Padres Rule!"
Now Wiggins needs to find a new Jack in the Box to go to. Any suggestions? Preferably something on a bus line not far from Alpine. Thanks.