- Please evacuate your bowels before entering my home. There is a port-a-potty at the construction site two blocks down, I’m sure you passed it on the way in. If nature calls while you’re here, at least use the amply supplied Courtesy Spray and turn on the Electric Fart Fan. Thank you.
- If you bring Schlitz to the party and I catch you drinking Guinness, you’re getting bounced.
- Nothing legal may be smoked under my roof.
- If you’re fortunate enough to be dining here, don’t ask to have your food prepared in a special way or to have certain ingredients left out. It’s all cooked the same for everyone. This ain’t a Diner and my name ain’t Mel. Allergic to something? Suck up a Benadryl or scratch your itchy ass. There’s a McDonalds next to the port-a-potty. Pick-up, Dingy!
- Don’t park on my lawn unless you plan on grading the soil and laying new sod in the morning.
- Yes, the dog bites but don’t worry, he’s never killed on purpose.
- Unless numerous cell phone conversations somehow pertain to your visit, please don’t use my home as a phone booth. You’re not as popular as you think you are and unless you’re a drug dealer or a bookie, your business should be conducted during normal working hours far the fuck away from my hearing range.
- Unless your next paycheck covers the cost of a leather sectional, I suggest you avoid my furniture while showing off how much wine you can drink on an empty stomach.
- If you’re here to party, don’t ask me to turn on the TV. Stay home if you want to lounge out, watch the game and scratch your balls with a turkey leg. Fact is, I really don’t care if “your team” is playing. Besides, unless you own stock in a bunch of guys in tight pants with low IQs, they are not really “your team.” Trust me, they don’t care how YOU spend YOUR Sunday.
- Happy drunks are always welcome to party here. As for the others, I have a locking broom closet that doubles as a drunk tank. It holds enough oxygen to sustain you for 41 minutes. I suggest you settle down quickly.
Among the political casualties of Tuesday’s big election is none other than Mayor McCheese of McDonaldland. The ousted Mayor was considered unstoppable among fast-food politicians. The burger-headed public servant had harsh words for the changing political landscape. “You know all this backlash started with that SuperSize Me movie. I mean, everybody dug cheeseburgers before that (hiccup.) Then suddenly, everybody is a damned snowflake and won’t eat meat. First, they’re bitching about cheese not digesting well and then it’s the fucking carbs in the bun. You know… Just stay home and cook for your stupid kids than, you boring losers! See if I care!” McCheese spewed drunkenly towards reporters.
Despite the volatile tone of the outgoing Mayor’s statement, polls show that there is some truth to his claims. 65% of fast-food eaters are more likely to eat chicken or fish than the overly processed beef-ish burgers that McDonaldland has become famous for. This could explain the quick political rise of the Poultry Party and the tremendous victory of their candidate, Charlie Chicken-Dick. The Mayor-Elect ran on a solid platform of weight-loss and clean arteries. Chicken-Dick commented on the political power shift, “The day of the cow is over. The red meat regime is finally dead. Healthy leadership will shape our future and lower your cholesterol levels. That is my promise to you.” Even political upstart Felicia Fish-Smell performed strongly as an independent capturing a respectable 12% of the vote among McDonaldland late lunch-goers and early-bird seniors.
Mayor McCheese’s campaign advisors will likely be blamed for what was ultimately a conscious decision by diners on behalf of their health and bursting beltlines. Lead strategist for the McCheese campaign, HamBurglar pulled no punches concerning his candidate’s loss, “robble, robble, robble, robble” he muttered unintelligibly. The comments were translated for the press by political ally and gay-rights activist Grimace, ” He said, I love meat in every possible way. I worship meat and I support meat. Meat deserved to win this election. Meat, meat, meat.” Experts speculate as to whether or not HamBurglar’s criminal background might also have contributed towards the political demise of Mayor McCheese. In 2008, criminal charges were dropped against the infamous beef-patty pilferer in a scandalous case accusing him of funding piracy for none other than Captain Crook.
The soon-to-be retired Mayor McCheese wouldn’t speculate as to the integrity of his cohorts but did have some parting words for the people of McDonaldland who put him out to pasture “You people may think you’re so (hiccup) smart giving that Chicken-Dick my job, but it ain’t gonna matter no how. Everything here is shot up with hormones (hiccup) and steroids and then fried. So, you ain’t changed a thing with this farce of an election. Enjoy your heart disease, suckers.” McCheese also hinted that his political career might not be over. “I hear that the Burger King’s constituents aren’t real happy with that freaky plastic mask he’s been wearing. I don’t blame ’em. Fucking thing gives me nightmares (burps.) But there might be an opportunity there for me to (hiccup) swoop in and take the crown. We’ll see. It’d be nice to govern somebody other than the goddamned ingrates of McDonaldland. (pause) You know, I think it should go to my credit that this experience hasn’t made me bitter.” McCheese proceeded to throw members of the press out of his room so he could sulk and finish his bottle of Jack Daniels.