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     | |      c   o   m   m   u   n   i   c   a   t   i   o   n   s     | |
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  ...presents...         My Happy Day at Mickey Ds
                                                         by Furplay

             __///////\ -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc- /\\\\\\\__
               \\\\\\\/  Everything You Need Since 1986  \///////
  ___    _   _    ___     _   _    ___       _   _      ___    _   _      ___

I was getting a bit hungry last week, so since I had to drop off some videos
at the local Blockbuster ("Starship Troopers" and "Boogie Nights," if you must
know), I'd go and get some lunch at McDonald's. It somewhat qualifies as a
"food", at least until you get to dinner when you can make up for it with some
real nutrients.

As I approached, it seemed odd that there was more than the usual number of
morons going in there as well, along with a LOT of discarded Happy Meal
containers in the parking lot. I worried that it may be "brat night", but
noticed that the telltale sign of sprogs working up a good lawsuit were
absent from the playground out front, so I pressed on.

Anyways, as I was placing my order, this sweaty, fatassed she-freak tries to
shove herself in front of me, screaming at the top of her lungs if they still
had any of those pelican "Teeny Beany Babies" they were plopping into Happy
Meals. It was bad enough that the line was extra long and extra slow because
the McBots in the burger mines were working franticly to fill all those HM
orders for the rest of the Beany-crazed herd.

I came close to wanting to grab this hippo and scream "GET OUT OF MY FACE, YOU
BEANY-BRAINED MORON!! *I* *AM* *HUNGRYYYYYY*!!!!" at the top of my lungs, but
Satan gave me a BETTER idea. Something with even MORE devastating potential.

I looked towards the harried, humanoid shaped pimple-farm behind the counter
and asked how many of these Bobdammed pelicans they had left.

"Uh, about three," he said.

"Okay, I'd like to add THREE Happy Meals to my order, and make sure they have
those pelicans in there, OK?"

"Uh, Okay.......sure" he replied, catching onto why I would order that many.
It seemed to make him feel like he'd bring them to me on a McSilver tray if
they had one.

I gave Mrs. Jabba a biga-ssed smirk (ever see that part where the Grinch grins
from ear to ear?). She seemed so agast at the horror of her NOT getting her
precious fucking Teeny Beanies that I actually had to make sure that when my
order came up, she didn't try to make a grab for one of the Happy Meals and
run for the door (I'm sure she wouldn't move very fast, but trying to stop
THAT much mass might prove hazardous).

Instead, she screamed a big shitfit, demanded to speak with the manager to
make me GIVE HER those pelican Beanies (the head McManager just simply told
her that it was "first come, first serve", and it was corporate policy).
Realizing that she was as much of a loser as she was fat, she claimed that
McDonald's and I were in on a conspiracy and swore that she was going to sue me
and the McDonald's Corporation for every thin dime we both have and that we were
NOT going to get away with this, yatta-yatta-yatta, oink oink oink, moooooooo.
Yeah, right.

So there I sat, munching away on my McFood (there was enough on the tray
to make even the cow woman explode), with my little droopy-ass pelican toys
sitting in full view so that as the Beany-morons left empty-handed, they'd see
my treasure before them and they would know despair ("IIIIIIIIIIII-got,
your-Beeeeeeeeee-nies! You-can-not, haaaaave-none! You-are-all-reeeeee-tards!").
A few of them actually came up to my table as I was eating and offered real
money for them, but my evil was in full bloom that hour, and I had other
plans for these little effigies of media-hype and human stupidity.

Before I departed (I was getting so full that I just ate the "meat" patty in
each HM and left the buns and fries untouched), I sliced off the pelican heads
and left each one perched on top of the straws of the undrunk small drinks as
a warning to those who try to fuck around with MY personal space ever again
(and used the ketchup packets to have simulated congealed blood running down
the straws and neck stumps of the bodies, which I had placed in the uneaten
buns). And to finish this masterpiece, I took out a marker to make a little
billboard out of one of the HM boxes turned inside-out to write "BEANIES
SUCK!!" It looked like a diorama of Vlad Teppes' visit to McDonaldLand.

I wish I had a camera to photograph the table before I left, but I get the
feeling some of the workers may have done so before they cleared it off. I'm
sure it made their day after their harrowing shift in Beanybrain Hell. I've
got to ask them if they can make me print when I go back there some day.

Sure, I may have wasted a lot of good food and passed up the chance to make
some moron money, but the chance to commit evil like this has NO price tag.

    .-.                             _   _                             .-.
   /   \           .-.             ((___))             .-.           /   \
  /.ooM \         /   \       .-.  [ x x ]  .-.       /   \         /.ooM \
-/-------\-------/-----\-----/---\--\   /--/---\-----/-----\-------/-------\-
/lucky  13\     /       \   /     `-(' ')-'     \   /       \     /lucky  13\
           \   /         `-'         (U)         `-'         \   /
            `-'              the original e-zine              `-'    _
      Oooo                    eastside westside                     / )   __
 /)(\ (   \                       WORLDWIDE                        /  (  /  \
 \__/  )  /  Copyright (c) 1999 cDc communications and the author. \   ) \)(/
       (_/     CULT OF THE DEAD COW is a registered trademark of    oooO
          cDc communications, PO Box 53011, Lubbock, TX, 79453, USA.      _
  oooO            All rights reserved.  Edited by Omega.            __   ( \
 /   ) /)(\                                                        /  \  )  \
 \  (  \__/       Save yourself!  Go outside!  Do something!       \)(/ (   /
  \_)                     xXx   BOW to the COW   xXx                    Oooo