This little gem of a trick is a quick way to really fuck up a fast-food joint for awhile. The beauty is that it only takes a second, can be performed with no real preparation and is totally safe. You can do it on your way to grandma's, the store, work or church. The only tool you need is a 12-inch crescent wrench.

Walk up to the fast-food slop-shop with your crescent wrench. Locate the gas meter behind the building (usually near the back door). It looks like R2D2's little brother. It will be a medium gray color and will have either a few gauges or a digital readout in a plastic case on top. There will be one pipe coming in and one going out. Examine the pipes, and on the incoming one (usually the left one) there will be a little valve. It looks just like any other fitting except there is a circle about the size of a 50 cent piece in it. Coming off this circle is a rectangular tab with a hole drilled in it. That's your baby. Just grab the tab with your Stanley drop-forged crescent wrench, turn it 90 degrees and watch greasy tears roll down the faces of all those sad people in the drive-thru. Orders will quit going out within five minutes. Since I know, I'll give you a quick rundown on what is going on inside. Jim Bob just dropped his last load of fish sticks into the fryer for today's lunch rush. The safety valves on all the fryers and grills just closed, and the grease is quickly coagulating. The manager is having chest pains as her labor-to-profit ratio plummets before her eyes. One honor student gives a shit. And the rest of the crew snicker and give each other looks while they get a well-deserved break. Dozens of sorry souls are denied their chickenmikwhopperwithfrize. For you tree huggers, that means a ream or two of paper bags, napkins, boxes and shit doesn't walk out the door. For you animal lovers, that means that Bambi's cow cousin stays on ice for another day with the chicken parts and fish pieces.

The best part is it's just plain fun to grab a corporate fast-food joint by the nuts and twist. I like to wait until the lunch rush is hopping and the drive through is full, then coolly cruise up and shut off the gas while tying my shoe or whatever. No one will notice, no one notices anything. Then walk to a good hideout to watch as the drivers screech away pissed off. You can laugh over a sprout sandwich or a jug of Jim Beam. The fun will be over in 40 minutes when the gas repair guy comes rolling in and figures it out. But by then lunch is over, three or four hundred bucks in profit are gone, lots of customers are pissed, and McSchmuck owes Jebediah the gas repairman $60. So all in all, it's got a pretty good result-to-effort ratio. Plus, it's funny as all hell!

Here's a quick rundown of the most vulnerable chain restaurants:
Boston Market, McDonalds, Burger King, Taco Bell, Skippers, Jack Off in the Box, Kentucky Fried Chicken, supermarkets with delis and any pizza joint. These places not only rely on gas equipment, they intentionally hire employees who will never figure out how to fix it.