McDonland
McDonland isn’t some kind of fun zone where everyone has a groovy time in the ball pit, OK? This is a serious business and if you want to work for the clown, you'd better wipe that smile off your face. I bet a punk like you thinks that being Ronald McDonald is all about glory, money and bitches, huh? Let me tell you something, I might be smiling when you see my statue down at the golden arches but the only reason I’m standing here today is because I’m a survivor.
There is very little to smile about here. Do you know how many people I’ve killed? Sweet Bajeezus, I can’t even remember how many dinks like you I’ve split in half with my bare hands, let alone come up with a total body count for everyone that tried to get in my way. Maybe you can look up how many McRib sandwiches we’ve sold in the past 20 years, I figure someone your size makes about 9-10 patties after processing. That's the magic of the fast food marketplace - which can ultimately be summed up in four words.......
There - Is - No - Competition
Seriously, do you really think the King, Jack and Wendy are in some kind of competition with me? Listen and learn, kid. In the 1940’s there was no such thing as "fast food" and I had the whole country to myself, long before all these wannabee big corporate players tried to shove their way into my market. There were only small time losers running small time rackets like my boy Grimace. I’ll never forget the first time I saw this fat little purple kid playing the fiddle game with one of my managers after sucking down a bunch of large shakes. I was about to have the Hamburglar robble robble his legs when I realized that the little bastard gave me a great idea - I'll just make everyone pay for their food before they get it instead of afterward. We established the industry standard back then but it wasn't too long before all these copycats wanted a piece of the clown's action.
Jack and his Crack
Around 1951, here comes this Jack bastard and not only is he trying to get in on the burger racket he’s also going after the same demographic by using advertising that’s directly targeted at kids. A freakin’ Jack in the Box, huh? That's quite a large set of balls for such a little prick. Since he kept his racket to the west coast I decided to let him live for a minor tribute. I’m a fair man, it’s a big country. Besides, the appearance of McCompetition is a good thing. Of course, after Jack brought in the little black kid to sing that damn song, it was time to take him out. The "reaction by a wholesome, average shmoe" genre of commercials was our schtick!
Jack deserved a McBreak to his McSkull but we made sure he wasn't able to "take life a little easier". We ended up buying out the company that delivered their beef and started slipping horse meat into the shipments. We should have taken over the FDA instead, it took those lazy bastards four years to finally catch the Mr Edburgers. You just can’t trust the government to do anything when you want them to, you have to be the government yourself. At least the FDA were brighter than the minimum wage workers that Jack hired. That little incident set his business back far enough to make him stop and think about getting smarter. He finally changed his advertising strategy and stopped copying mine by switching to the ping-pong ball headed guy campaign. Unfortunately, in 1990 Jack had a little E-Coli “accident” from which the company would never recover. He’s stuck in the west coast market now, forever a small time player.
The Burger King
Of course Jack wasn’t the only mook trying to weasel in on the action. The King wasn’t too far behind but he had a better plan than the others. The King had Mayor McCheese in his pocket and a bigger fleet of lawyers than anyone else in the business. He sure needed it because the Grimace has been keeping those high priced suits busy with every possible frivolous lawsuit you can imagine since 1954 - and he works exclusively for milkshakes. That considerably raised the cost of doing business for the King but he was able to keep on expanding anyway. He even made it across the pond and into the European market but got stopped cold in the Middle East and Asia because the people who live there have this aversion to a white guy wearing a crown marching into town. Finally, Mayor McCheese took a little robble robble to the head and I broke the King’s supply line. He buys everything from me now. We ship him those huge ass buns so he can pretend that his burgers are bigger. When you join up with the clown and work your way into the inner circle you can do whatever you want to anybody in a Burger King employee outfit, we basically own them now. Get all Caligula on their asses if you want to.
That Wendy Bitch
So the 70's come along and who should appear but this little Wendy bitch. I will admit, she did make quite an effort towards the appearance of not muscling in on my racket by going with a square burger but I found that ruse to be insulting to my intelligence. This little broad thinks the shape of her burger somehow makes her special and different? As if she's not still trying to take a piece of the McDon's action?! I don't think so, ginger lady. She actually laughed at me when I told her that so I sez "What? Do you find something funny here? Do I amuse you like some kind of clown or something?"
I specifically did not hear Raggedy Ann laughing after one of her fingers showed up in a bag of Wendy's chili fries the next day. People have a tendency to avoid establishments that occasionally have rodent pieces or human body parts mysteriously show up in the food. It doesn't matter if they eventually prove that our hired patsies faked the whole thing, customers get the message and the authorities never trace anything back to us. Hey kid, maybe you can go into a Wendy's and "accidentally" find a finger fry someday for the clown, it'll definitely pay better than schlepping a mop in our bathrooms, eh?
If You're Not With Us, You're Against Us
There's not a single freakin' burger that is sold in the states that I do not own a piece of - despite these numerous "competitors". It amazes me how people think they have some kind of choice in the fast food world but little do they know that all the greasy junk food they're shoveling down their obese gullets goes through the same supply chain and comes from the same places - all of them owned by me. So, you can go work for the losers in this industry or you can work for the McDon. Here are the simple rules to follow if you're going to be working for me:
- Don't harm the kids. The kids are our future business because the life expectancy of our best customers is 49 and falling
- Don't put words in the clown's mouth. I've got a never ending handkerchief in my pocket for anyone who even acknowledges that I exist. We didn't even have this conversation.
- Do What You're Told. There's plenty of perks for people who follow orders. For starters, free food at the Outback Steakhouse. I don't want my best guys eating the trash we serve at McDonald's.
I like you kid, you remind me of the Grimace back when he was just a two bit punk and now here's your chance to impress me. I've got a little situation down in Socal with another perennial small time player who's thinking about going national on me. So, who the hell names a business "In-N-Out Burger" anyway? What does that mean, fuck burger? I really don't want to know the answer to that question because I'd rather not have that visual in my head while some whore is eating my apple pie later this evening. So here's the spiel, I want you to head down to L.A. and do some low level work. The kids down there take these "In-N-Out Burger" bumper stickers and turn them into "In-N-Out Urge" bumper stickers - it's like some kind of trendy thing to alter them and put them on your car I guess. It works just like free advertising for these Hollywood burger pervs. I want all the windows of every McFreakin' car with one of those damn stickers on it completely smashed. If you run into any trouble, Officer Bic Mac will get you out of the joint. Make me proud and I'll get you a personal Burger King employee, piss me off and I'll robble robble your kneecaps, capice? One last thing. Don't clown around and try to wipe that freakin' smile off your face, OK? This is serious business.
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