Well, here we go! As an experiment, we’re going to leave this McDonald’s hamburger out on our counter here for a year. It should be a pretty good year for us. We have a lot of big things planned. For instance, we’re marrying our fiancée Laura in Cancún next June!
Gross!
Fuck, we lost the hamburger.
The burger starts to get bored. I mean, can you blame it? It’s just sitting there.
Jesus fucking Christ, can this fucking experiment just be over already?
We caught our assistant playing music for the burger. Unclear how this contamination will affect the subject’s eventual trajectory.
Gosh, a week old already! We just had to commemorate it with some professionally shot portraits. Too bad it can’t stay this little forever.
We begin to despair that we’ll ever find out what happens to a burger when it’s left out on the counter, and meanwhile, this obsessive, hubristic pursuit has costs us our friends, family, and loved ones.
Today we came back from the store with our arms full of groceries and had nowhere to put them. Kind of wishing we had left the burger somewhere else. Guess it’s too late now.
Whoa! Someone gave the kitchen a Mediterranean makeover, and it looks bravissimo!
At this point, the burger will slightly resemble Emperor Alexander III of Russia. It’s hard to tell on first glance, but look at it for a while. You’ll see it.
Ow! This burger now appears to be teething.
It grows a fun hat!
The hamburger acquires object permanence.
Bad news. Today we realized that if we’re really going to photograph this hamburger every day, then we probably can’t go to Cancún for our wedding. We’re trying to get up the courage to talk to Laura about it soon.
Maggots have taken up residence in the hamburger and begun renovations to increase the property value of the sandwich.
A pair of eyes keeps peeking out from under the bun. Not sure if those were always there or if we just noticed them now.
Dateline NBC comes around to report on it after facing a slow news week.
Maybe it’s just because we’ve spent so much time with it, but we think we’re starting to fall in love with this incredibly sexy and erotic hamburger.
The mother hamburger returns to its offspring to feed it after a long journey of nearly 100 miles.
The burger files a complaint with the ACLU claiming that its civil liberties have been violated by being forced to sit here and just rot.
Still haven’t had the talk with Laura about the wedding thing. It’s bad, we know, we know.
The hamburger hibernates for the winter, sustaining itself on the protein it stocked up on during its eight-month feeding season.
The hamburger experiences a dim memory of a large clown in a yellow suit, but the vision is hazy, and it can’t decipher what it means.
Oh, yuck! It grew a lime!
Would this have been more interesting with Chicken McNuggets? Fuck, we’re too far in to change course now.
Tonight when we were doing the dishes, Laura stopped and looked over at us and said, “I can’t wait to marry you.” Our hearts were beating so fast. God. We need to say something soon.
The burger has become addicted to porn.
It got on top of the PlayStation somehow.
Last we checked, the burger promised us it was in for the night, but we just caught it dragging its buns back in here around dawn, without so much as an utterance of where it’s been or who it was with.
Both the researchers and the hamburger are so very, very tired.
Still has not decayed in any way, which, look, not good for sure, but if you are honest, it is a pretty amazing scientific achievement, right?
Oh no. Oh God. The burger ate our pet bird.
No visible mold or rot of any kind, although all the birds in our neighborhood have disappeared.
At this point, you likely won’t be able to get close to this burger without gagging, not only because of the near-complete putrefaction, but from the dawning realization of all this time and energy you’ve poured into watching it. Just think: You’ve had relationships, relationships that felt meaningful and worthwhile in the moment, that lasted for a shorter time than this hamburger, and now you’re reduced to this. What are you doing with your life?
We keep finding it on top of the PlayStation.
Did someone put two more hamburgers here to confuse us? We leave the experiment for two goddamn seconds, and now we don’t know which burger is which! How are we supposed to conduct a successful goddamn experiment in these conditions?
The burger has published its memoir, 129 Days Of Solitude, and it’s doing pretty good. It’s No. 4 right now on the New York Times bestseller list!
The only way to appreciate what’s going on here is to take a big whiff. Please scratch the image on your screen vigorously with a sharp object in order to activate the odormeter.
The burger apparently decides it’s tired of being observed as it rots, and it tries to skitter away. Thankfully, we’ve already sealed all exits.
We thought the hamburger was just getting bloated due to rot, but it appears it was pregnant after giving birth to a McDouble.
Hamburger is now 17.2% ABV with notes of cherrywood, stone fruit, and autumn leaves.
Goddammit, some huckster is trying to make a roadside attraction out of our rotting burger. Get lost, asshole!
The burger enters its emo phase.
After eating kitchen scraps for several weeks to gain fat, the burger will wrap itself in silk to create a cocoon, ultimately dissolving its ingredients while inside.
Now technically qualifies as an illegal chemical weapon under the Geneva Conventions.
The burger begins to go through puberty and struggles to fit in with other burgers due to constant acne breakouts.
Newly grown pubic hair suggests the burger has completed puberty.
The burger syncs its period with all other menstruating members of the household.
A huge internal change today. The burger has finally come to face its own mortality and reflect on existence, pondering its meaning and wondering if true happiness would ever be experienced deep within its medium-rare core. Or had it already squandered the precious gift on fleeting whims and fancies?
Jumping back in time. CW1029230 here has no idea what’s coming.
Okay, so our fiancée, Laura—remember her from earlier? Well, she died in a car accident this morning, so that means we don’t even have to worry about balancing the burger thing with our marriage anymore. Anyway, take a look at this burger.
We got hungry and took a bite out of it. Sorry.
Starting to look older. Wiser, perhaps.
On this day, the burger will briefly revert to its original piping hot and delicious state, but note that this window is extremely quick.
The mold on the hamburger appears to have entered into the Stone Age, as evidenced by the arrowheads on the bun.
The burger randomly gets really into the Allman Brothers Band.
Nothing. The hamburger is the same as it’s always been. Just sitting there. It has not grown or changed or evolved in any way despite its increasing age. Sound familiar?
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Okay, so we totally forgot to check up on this thing for, like, a month. Sorry. It’s still gross.
This is the point when the hamburger will have reached peak maturity.
You think it’s still good to eat? Probably, right?
Well, here we are. We lost our spouses, our kids, our friends. All we have left is the burger. And we’d do it all again.
How did you get in here? This slideshow ended years ago. Get out!