The scribe saw in his vision a Chain that sat upon many franchises, arrayed in purple and precious branding, holding a golden cup full of watered sauce and the sweat of unpaid riders; and upon her forehead was written BABYLON THE CHAIN, and underneath, in small letters, TERMS AND CONDITIONS APPLY. Her doctrine was threefold: water the sauce, for the people forget; stiff the rider, for the rider hath no union; and call the closing of tables efficiency, for a word well chosen can carry a coffin through a crowd and be praised for it.
She persecuteth no man openly, saith the angel; she only underpriceth him unto death. She counteth riders in numbers and not in names, and kitchens in units and not in kitchens; and where a table stood forty years, there standeth a screen for the ordering, and the screen doth not know anyone’s name.
But heaven’s counsel to the faithful is not despair; it is custom. Come out of her, my people: keep your custom for the corner oven while the corner oven yet stands; for thy coin is a vote, and thou votest thrice daily, as it is written in the Revelation, 8:4. The family café against the drive-through, the bookshop against the everything-store – these are ballots, and thou castest them with thy lunch.
And judge machines, not souls: pray thou for the manager of the branch, said the angel, for she is wearier than thou knowest. And remember the vision’s ending: where the flagship stood, a market of small stalls, and the first given to a baker’s widow – and her sign was her own name. Amen – and pass the pizza.