Tag Archives: Saw
By Andrew Blumetti
It all starts with an innocent peanut.
Just an ordinary peanut growing in the sun-drenched fields, not much unlike any of the other millions of potential allergy-ruiners that reside on the fertile farmland soil.
It never hurt anyone, never caused a problem, never made a scene, but hey brotha, sometimes, fate just deals you a crap hand, and the next thing you know, you’re being picked up faster than a tequila-filled college sophomore on spring break by a guy in a non-ironic John Deere cap.
From there, it’s just a quick slide straight down crap mountain as that simple peanut who was just kicking back on the soil soon endures the fate of an unfortunate Jigsaw victim in Saw IV, V or VI, being roasted, toasted, and grinded into a deliciously gooey paste.
Let’s get to seasoning– toss in some salt, a dash of sweetener, jar it, pop a lid on that sucker and this once fresh peanut, full of potential and possibility, is now part of something bigger and something even more tasty: your favorite two words, and mine– peanut butter.
…but with that title comes infinite possibilities or infinite doom:
Meanwhile, somewhere sweeter…
In a secret lab which just has to be run by old ladies in supportive knee-high hose, sugarcane or sugar beets are getting a once-over of their own, refined and turned into sweet, sticky, syrupy mess, more popularly known as molasses.
You know the stuff. It’s got the pitch-black color of the heart of a teacher who gives you homework over Christmas break, it’s sweeter than the last three minutes of an episode of Full House, and moves about as fast as a tired sloth full of NyQuil.
Not an item that typically ends up at the top of your shopping list, molasses is oddly enough, the unheralded star of some of your favorite eats. Without it, certain barbecue sauces, desserts, beers, and rum just wouldn’t have the same taste. Heck, in a pinch, molasses can even help remove the rust from the hood of your old ’93 Pontiac your weird uncle sold you.
…and about a century ago, this marriage is where things went horribly, horribly wrong.
Just two years after the disastrous sinking of the Titanic, the world was met with another horror, this time one of the candy kind. In 1914, The Charles N. Miller Company decided to Frankenstein us all, adding peanut butter and molasses together. And much like the destructive giant green monster, sparks flew, wires had gone berserk, everything went awry and this abominable creation was bestowed upon us:
Ladies and gentlemen, the Mary freakin’ Jane.
Later owned by Stark Candy Company and currently by classic confectionery outfit, Necco, this taffy sugar candy has lasted over 100 years. And with that legacy, comes a timelessness, as that maize and red wrapper signals a generationally-beloved goodie to dispense to adorable, grimey-fingered trick-or-treaters who crowd your doorstep come Halloweentime like packs of salivating wolves waiting to pounce on a raw porterhouse.
OF COURSE THEY’RE NOT, THEY STINK.
Simply put, Mary Janes are the scourge of the Halloween candy world.
If you’ve ever spent weeks picking out that perfect costume and hoofing your tired little feet all over the crunchy leaves of the neighborhood, the sweetest reward is coming back home to dump out your obnoxiously huge bag of hard-earned cavity-makers all over the rug to sort them out like some sort of supreme candy god.
Making piles and separating the goods from the not-so goods, here’s a few of the biggest offenders that will soon find a permanent home in your trashcan or chucked at your sister’s head:
- Good & Plenty: The dreadful licorice candy you can fortunately sell to deadheads as pills.
- Non-descript Black and Orange Wrapped Candies: I’d start gnawing on drywall for survival before I resorted to these.
- Bit-O-Honey: The candy that makes bees enjoy stinging us.
…and in that ill-fated batch of not-so-dandy candy, sits that same lone peanut we started with– mashed, smashed, and forever bound to molasses, with a one-way ticket to the Island of Misfit Candies.
Wow, that’s pretty harsh, right? That paints a cold, cold picture. Maybe even I’ve changed my own mind.
So, this October 31st, when you look in your plastic Halloween pumpkin and are sourly disappointed to see you walked up those steep stairs to a old lady’s mothball-ridden doorstep for a half-squashed Mary Jane instead of a colorful pack of delightful M&M’s, maybe it’s time to do some corn-syruped soul searching…
Perhaps there’s someone out there who will love the sweet journey of that poor peanut. Perhaps there’s a generation who hears “Mary Jane” and instantly doesn’t associate it with potheads sitting in a drum circle. Perhaps this is just a textbook case candy ageism, and we should respect our sugared elders, giving them a second chance. And perhaps come November 1st, an open mind will reward us with our new favorite treat.
And if that’s the case, please send me your address so I can mail all of mine to you, cause those things are gross.
HAPPY SNACKING EVERYONE!
Illustrated by Andrew Blumetti
Just when you thought it was safe to open the door for Snickers-grubbing trick-or-treaters…
Sequels are rough, man. Highly anticipated, but more often than not, they simply can’t catch that “lightning in a bottle” magic that made the original so beloved.
Well, the heck with that noise.
If you liked part one, well… here’s another. In the second part of a three-part series that’s hopefully more Godfather Part II than Sister Act 2, it’s time to lock up your Milky Ways and Twix bars, toss away those horrid Mary Janes, and un-razorblade those apples, cause it’s time for our favorite scaries to take five and have some fun of their own.
KATIE FEATHERSTON (Paranormal Activity) as THE CAT IN THE HAT
BILLY THE PUPPET (Saw) as DOPED-UP LANCE ARMSTRONG
CAPTAIN SPAULDING (House of 1000 Corpses) as A CHOLO
MICHAEL MYERS (Halloween) as A DORITOS LOCOS TACO
SAM (Trick ‘r Treat) as HONEY BOO BOO
JASON VOORHEES (Friday the 13th) as LUMBERGH FROM OFFICE SPACE
CHERYL (The Evil Dead) AS A HIPPIE
HANNIBAL LECTER (The Silence of the Lambs) as AN ABERCROMBIE AND FITCH MODEL
SAMARA (The Ring) as A HOOTERS WAITRESS
LEPRECHAUN (Leprechaun) as KNICKS-ERA JEREMY LIN
By Andrew Blumetti
Happy October everyone!
Bust out the crispy apples to bob, the bumpy pumpkins to carve, and the scary black cats to avoid. It’s finally the spookiest time of the year, and I couldn’t be happier. To celebrate, this post will begin a month’s worth of Halloween-centric topics. From goofy costumes to Trick or Treating to horror movies, all writing/art during October will be a Halloween celebration. Hope you enjoy!
“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”
– L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables
Now, if your tenth month of the year is anything like mine, your DVD player will be working overtime, playing every scary movie ever made all Halloween season long to put you in that perfect chilling mood. (It’ll also be filled with purchasing bags of candy for trick-or-treaters way too early, and snacking on them all month long instead, but that’s really a story for another time.)
See the sun dropping earlier? The air is getting chilly and you’re quick to break those hooded sweatshirts out of their long slumber, the only way to celebrate is to get the blood pumping by crankin’ up the terror.
It’s perfect time to throw on some comfy slippers, kick back with a warm cup of apple cider and watch Jason slash up some ill-fated teenage campers, hordes of mindless zombies descend upon the ramshackle house in Night of the Living Dead, and Leatherface rev up that grimy, rusty chainsaw to really ruin someone’s afternoon.
Horror movies and Halloween season go hand-in-hand in the most fun way possible. It’s that eerie time of year we’re slightly more apprehensive to shut the lights in the kitchen or we may drive a little faster when we pass a cemetery at night. For these 31 days, don’t imagine trying to walk in the dark without looking over your shoulder, even for just a split second. You know, every creak, every squeak, every sound could be terror right around the corner, waiting to take you down.
corpse course, those same beloved horror anti-heros are a cash cow for the Halloween costume-business as well.
Let’s investigate further. In 2013, when it comes to adult Halloween costumes, there’s basically four major categories to pick from:
1. Superhero (examples: Batman, Superman, Spiderman, etc…)
2. Guy Who Makes a Giant Cardboard Facebook Profile Around His Head
3. Trashy ANYTHING (girls freezing their tails off to thoroughly skank up any costume or character available)
4. Scary (examples: vampire, zombie, witches, monsters, horror movie characters, etc…)
(Blumes note: Miley Cyrus costumes can count as numbers 3 AND 4)
And category four is where we’re focusing today (I know, I know, we were all hoping for trashy ones, I kinda was too).
When pulled-off correctly, seeing our most feared and terrifying wet-your-pants-in-fear villains, ghouls, and goblins come to life, it can be a horrifying treat to experience.
Or… how when those same ghastly villains costumes aren’t pulled off correctly, it’s well… cringeworthy comedy at its finest.
Lock the doors, turn on the lights, and get your best scream ready, cause it’s the Halloworst!
CRAP COSTUME #1
Who’s that mess?: Jason Voorhees
Film: Friday the 13th
Estimated costume cost: $2.00
But he should look like:
But why’s it a train wreck?: True, true, the weaker Friday… films did feature lumbering camper-killer, Jason, with a smart, Supercuts-esque, well-quaffed, white guy-hairdo, complete with a red Aeropostale t-shirt, but c’mon fella, you look more like Jason Bateman than Jason Voorhees in that craptacular costume.
He should actually be careful, that mask is so cheap, it’s likely those air holes are just painted on.
Thanks for making me look less stupid.
CRAP COSTUME #2
Who’s that mess?: Carrie White … I think
Estimated costume cost: $5.95
But she should look like:
But why’s it a train wreck?: One time, many many long times ago, I felt my throat getting dryer than Harrison Ford on a talk show interview. Yes, friends, it was that classic instinct- thirst.
Of course as fate would have it, all that was around was a bottle of Mountain Dew Code Red. Sure, there’s questionable red dyes in it, but brotha, beggars can’t be choosers. When you gotta quench, you gotta quench.
As I went to grab it, ‘ol butterfingers that I am, I dropped it like a total glom. Shaken Mountain Dew isn’t safe by any means, but the intense thirst was winning, and I needed relief right then.
So, I turned the cap and BAM!!! The sticky corn syrupy-soda exploded all over me, and I was covered in an embarassing red.
Bottom line of my story? I looked more like Carrie than this girl does.
CRAP COSTUME #3
Who’s that mess?: Hannibal Lecter
Film: The Silence of the Lambs
Estimated costume cost: $6.00
But he should look like:
But why’s it a train wreck?: Well, for starters, you couldn’t have a less intimidating kid playing Hannibal the Cannibal. He’ll only get to trick or treat if he can unstuff himself from his high-school locker and get out before dark.
Lucky for him, I’m a “glass is half full” kind of guy. On the plus side, when November 1st comes around, this goober can cut the bars off and make this thing into the beard he’ll never be able to grow.
That’s right, win/win buddy! Blumes is lookin’ out for ya!
CRAP COSTUME #4
Who’s that mess?: Captain Spaulding
Film: House of 1000 Corpses/The Devil’s Rejects
Estimated costume cost: $3.00
But he should look like:
But why’s it a train wreck?: Well, frankly, he’s sassy. Like “jazz hands” kind of sassy. That’s never a good look, especially for a dirty, scummy, merciless murdering clown.
Plus the painted-on facial hair, wacky uneven eyebrows and constipated face just come off as scary, but in all the wrong ways.
You gotta remember Flamboyant Spaulding, bran flakes are your friend in a time like this. How do you think Freddy Krueger stays so regular?
CRAP COSTUME #5
Who’s that mess?: Michael Myers
Estimated costume cost: $3.99
But he should look like:
But why’s it a train wreck?: With all that time spent murdering people, how’s soft-rock Myers gonna keep his place playing bass for Michael Bolton’s backing band?
That’s a Michael Myers spread way too thin.
CRAP COSTUME #6
Who’s that mess?: Freddy Krueger
Film: A Nightmare on Elm Street
Estimated costume cost: -$0.02 (for stolen plastic utensil)
But he should look like:
But why’s it a train wreck?: ♪ “One, two, Freddy’s gonna eat stew” ♪
Don’t fall asleep… at lunch? Because Freddy’s back, working at a mid-range IT firm to haunt your dreams, torment your innocent soul, and mercilessly plastic spork your sad-self into a bloody pulp.
CRAP COSTUME #7
Who’s that mess?: Billy the Puppet
Estimated costume cost: $12.50 (I didn’t charge for shoes)
But he should look like:
But why’s it a train wreck?: It’s not really a bad costume per say, the effort is surely there. I just can’t get past the fact this adult on a tricycle spent his hard-earned dinero on a crappy magician’s tuxedo, Saw mask, and a shiny new bike, but decided that’s where the purse-strings closed, and usually-valuable shoes would have to suffer.
“Fred Flintstone-ing” your costume when it’s not required is a classic Halloween faux pas, and isn’t going to win you friends anytime soon.
Seriously– try being at the party, talking to this creepy schlub with his grody, grungy feet sticking out within a five-foot radius of the dip, and tell me you’re not gonna lose your appetite and head for the nearest exit.
Also, this Billy mask features the hair of Roseanne Barr back during Roseanne Barr’s awful hairdo period.
CRAP COSTUME #8
Who’s that mess?: Chucky
Film: Child’s Play
Estimated costume cost: $4.99
But he should look like:
But why’s it a train wreck?: Procrastination never pays kids.
This is what happens when you wait till Halloween afternoon to buy your costume… at the dollar store. And not even the good dollar store that sells Twix at two for a buck, it’s the one where you need to cry in the shower like Glenn Close in The Big Chill when you get home.
CRAP COSTUME #9
Who’s That Mess?: Micah Sloat and Katie Featherston
Film: Paranormal Activity
Estimated costume cost: $0.00. Literally zero.
But they should look like:
But why’s it a train wreck?: How could you not be a fan of the 2009 found-footage demon fest, Paranormal Activity? Created on the budget of two iced frappes at Starbucks, its Hitchcockian-attack on the senses of “less is more” was a refreshing minimalist change from the gorefests that seem to overtake modern horror.
As for this low-grade attempt at the main character’s costumes, obviously these two derelicts just wore their Kool Aid-stained pajamas to a party. In fact, I doubt if they even knew there was a costume party. This was just a result of a sloppy lunch. Or more likely, lunches.
(Also note: This girl is barefooting it. It may be accurate, but still a major no-no.)
(Also note, part 2: Check out that “mummy” sitting on the couch behind them. That party has no standards whatsoever. Can you imagine the chips they bought?)
CRAP COSTUME #10
Who’s That Mess?: Pennywise the Clown
Film: Stephen King’s It
Estimated costume cost: $6.50
But he should look like:
But why’s it a train wreck?: Ask anyone who suffers from coulrophobia (fear of clowns), and many are certain to pinpoint their petrifying fear back to this devilish creature from one of Stephen King’s most famous works. His eyes turn a terrifying yellow, he has razor-sharp fangs, and he yanks little boys to their untimely bloody deaths in the rain-drenched sewer like Dr. Smith in Lost in Space.
Well, show them this clown college reject, and their nose-honking, balloon-animal fear will go away faster than this clown’s self esteem did, apparent by his “I lost ALL of my money betting on the Giants game last week!” face.
CRAP COSTUME #11
Who’s that mess?: Shaun Riley
Film: Shaun of the Dead
Estimated costume cost: $1.05 (for name tag)
But he should look like:
But why’s it a train wreck?: From the neck-down, it’s actually not.
True, zombie-killer/slacker Shaun’s costume isn’t much more than a bloody white shirt and tie with an added bloody cricket bat, but the fact this guy looks like a Slayer roadie is really ruining the overall look.
and think of the fallout at the next Slayer concert…
Slayer: Hey, this guitar string broke mid-song, get a replacement, quick!
Slayer: Geez, what’s taking so long?!?
Tour manager: Your roadie is trick or treating. We’ll have to cancel the concert.
CRAP COSTUME #12
Who’s that mess?: Regan MacNeil
Film: The Exorcist
Estimated costume cost: $1.00
But she should look like:
But why’s it a train wreck?: Somehow this girl managed to get out of bed, look like a total disaster, and still mess up the intended “get out of bed and look like a disaster” look that demonized youth, Regan has to endure in the horror classic, The Exorcist.
And now, for your reading enjoyment, I was able to score an exclusive interview with Regan herself to get her opinion on this controversial costume issue:
Blumes: Regan, can you please give me your feelings on this girl’s lame wannabe demon getup of you?
CRAP COSTUME #13
Who’s that mess?: Ghostface
Estimated costume cost: $0.50
But he should look like:
But why’s it a train wreck?: Go into any Walgreens or CVS store this time of year, and you’ll see a ton of these now classic Scream masks taking up residence on the shelf, and their prime selling point? Most of them won’t break your bank in the least.
Yes, it’s a cheap costume that’ll give you little hat-hair, and hey, you’ll get the same amount of candy, right?
Apparently this dude doesn’t get out much, seeing as how he decided to make his own crappy version and reak havoc on Japan by tickling his victims to death and running amok with all the yen he saved.
Look at him living it up…
By Andrew Blumetti
As if writing about Skippy from Family Ties and TGIF hasn’t dated me much so far, I’m certain the following will surely peg me as an ancient McNugget lovin’ dinosaur, cobwebs intact.
(insert semi-horrible Andy Rooney impression here… but without the messy desk)
With the seemingly never-ending onslaught of new-fangled gizmos and gadgets readily available today, every grade-school scamp is virtually a walking Best Buy store with a backpack. If an Apple a day keeps the doctor away, these tweens will live to be nearly a day short of one-hundred.
You have your fancy I-this and your spiffy I-that. Geez cheese Louise, they’re so tethered to their modern electronics, the only thing that you don’t see follow the “I” is “played outside after school with my friends“.
(end impression here.)
Now, I may only be a child of the 80’s— a simpler time of a feathery-haired Tony Danza, infinite cans of Aqua Net, and the gravity-defying locks of A Flock of Seagulls, but rest assured, it’s a cold, cold realization that smacks you square in the jaw when even my generation is starting to sound curmudgeonly.
Even in said decade, growing up in the New Jersey suburbs, there was a wealth of fun activities to occupy a young boy’s time on a sunny summer afternoon– endless games of stickball in the park, weaving in and out of local traffic on your bike, impressing the schoolgirls with the newest skateboarding tricks (or more specifically, “falling off a skateboard”), or perhaps a refreshing dip in a friend’s heavily-chlorined pool was the ideal way to spend your time.
Amongst all that classic-American fun in the sun, certain days really stood out from the others. Most specifically, being told that an afternoon trip to McDonald’s was being planned, simple as it sounds, now that was a reason to celebrate.
Sure, the sizzling golden fries were soaked in pure saturated happiness, and the Happy Meal box was filled with LEGO sets that were practically as good as gone by the time we got to the table, but going to Mickey-D’s included one other added attraction, one that wasn’t deep fried or dunked in honey mustard…
Sadly, most current McDonald’s locations don’t feature these outlandish relics anymore– A 4,000 square foot outdoor play-area, not much different than any standard cookie-cutter park playground, but decked-out in classic McDonald’s decor, all topped off with all the behavioral calmness of Lord of the Flies (or Fries?) on speed.
It was a barbarous marriage of the trippy universe of Willy Wonka and the happy-go-lucky freak show that was the advertising campaign of the Golden Arches… Metal slides, swings, and spinning rides that would get hotter than John Travolta’s spoon in Pulp Fiction on a summer day. A fantasy playland, covered in french fry smudge marks and more-than-occasional bratty kids in Bum Equipment t-shirts hogging every ride in sight. This madness was such a blast, it’d require multiple requests from exhausted parents to finally drag their surly kids to finally leave for home.
Fast forward to 2013, and finding a classic McDonald’s outdoor playground is quite the challenging task. Try as I might, I just can’t place my finger on the reason though…
Perhaps they became too costly to maintain? The cancellation of the McDonaldland promotion? Maybe McDonald’s brass considered any kind of exercise offensive?
….or perhaps the real reason McDonaldland Playgrounds ultimately went the way of the dodo is because sunshine-y nostalgic hindsight is clouding our vision of how Rob Zombie-ish that freaky place really was.
CHAPTER I: THE PURPLE PEOPLE EATER
A giant characterless purple blob that pre-dated Barney the Dinosaur. Yes, he literally pre-dated a freakin’ dinosaur.
The aptly-named Grimace was initially introduced as a nemesis to main clown mascot, Ronald McDonald. Fast food head-hanchos realized that’s just the most incredibly stupid thing, and went with the slightly less stupid story that he has no story. Luckily his character was so crappy, no one seemed to care… but much like Freddy Krueger, he would eventually have his revenge… ON YOUR CHILDREN.
In this ominous Buffalo Bill-esque prison, Grimace forced many innocent kiddies to put the lotion in the basket. How this thing is better than a real jail is beyond me.
“Thanks for eating our cheeseburgers, kids. Now get inside this weird purple thing’s torso.”
CHAPTER II: JAILHOUSE CROCK
Apparently, the McDonald’s brain-trust figured nothing struck a chord with kids like jails, cause here was another one– “Officer Big Mac”, a big giant novelty cheeseburger decked out in a nifty constable uniform who would one day be destined to become a torture pit for youths.
His main job was to pursue the Hamburglar, a ground beef-thief who decided it was wise to wear his prison stripes outside of prison and pilfer your cholesterol away from you.
After looking at this ominous death trap, one wouldn’t have to scratch their head too long to wonder why Officer Big Mac isn’t flashing his once-famous buns around anymore. Speaking as someone who isn’t crazy about heights or tight, enclosed spaces (the dirty, slippery, kid-crowded ladder inside this godforsaken thing was nothing short of a living nightmare straight out of Jacob’s Ladder), I avoided this hepatitis-covered abyss the way Neil Patrick Harris avoids women.
CHAPTER III: DAYLIGHT ROBBERY
Rumor has it there’s a deleted scene in the special edition of Saw IV that features this pupil-less Hamburglar’s rusted swings of death, but the MPAA deemed it was too disturbing to achieve an R-rating.
He’s got a Jack Skellington-ish suit, a Jack Skellington-ish body, and contains just the right amount of uneasy to make Tim Burton smile, but don’t be fooled, this boney burger boob simply ain’t any fun. Just make sure to pour out your Dr. Pepper on the sidewalk as a tribute to all the fallen suburban homies who tragically faceplanted while getting off of this wretched thing.
CHAPTER IV: SOMETHING’S FISHY…
This underwater treasure was the thing you were forced to play on when everything more fun was being occupied. Yes, when standing inside the Grimace jail was too exciting, this became the last resort of the desperate fast food playgrounder.
Being a fish is a wild ride. It’s freedom personified… something we as humans will never be able to fully appreciate or relate to. You spend your entire life in the magnificent deep blue sea, travel in schools, and gracefully glide your vibrant scaly body amongst the endless coral, the flowing greenery, and the vivid rainbows that compose your fellow sea-brethren– it’s stunning peace and Studio-54-ish chaos all in one felt aquatic swoop.
Then one random day, you spy a tasty worm just ripe for the picking… the next thing you know, there’s a hook in your stupid cheek, and you end up a processed square patty with a slice of room-temperature kinda-cheese on you, stuck on a bun at McDonald’s to be sold in a pair for three bucks.
True, it’s not necessarily the most dignified fate, but man, imagine being the ride based on that sandwich?
Meet the “Filet-o-Fish” ride, a humdrum bouncy piece of junk that didn’t even bounce properly.
Look familiar? You may remember this weirdo as the chestbuster that burst out of Ripley’s stomach while your were nodding off at the end of Alien 3.
CHAPTER V: HOW BIZARRRRRRRRRRRE
No list of forgotten McDonald’s mascots would be complete without nefarious swashbuckler, Captain Crook, the one Mc-imbecile who actually wanted to ride the bouncy fish seat.
A two-bit pirate with a soft spot for both thievery and seafood, this seafaring counterpart to the Hamburglar was yet another immoral advertising idea who wanted to snag your salty food while your back was turned. That’s so absurd, even the Oakland Raiders mascot is pointing and laughing,
Of course, since the McDonaldland Playground was missing a slide, they kindly threw Crook a bone. If avoiding the child Mcvomit at the bottom wasn’t taxing enough, battling the derelicts walking up the slide the wrong way was nothing short of the final battle in 300.
Look at his face. That tells you everything you need to know about this thing. Raise your hand if you’d have rather walked the plank into a sea of blood-thirsty sharks instead.
CHAPTER VI: “I BELIEVE I CAN FRY”
There’s a point when it’s painfully clear you’re just flat out of original ideas.
When Steve Urkel began endlessly cloning himself, we knew Family Matters was ready to mercifully be put down, or when Home Alone 3 hit theaters with an entire new cast, the planet shifted off axis as a nation simultaneously rolled their eyes at the offensive shark-jumping.
…and on that dubious note, I present to you, The Fry Guys.
Originally named “The Goblins” (cause they’re “gobblin’ up” your fries- hey, good one!), these are basically cheerleader pom-poms with volleyball-sized eyes that stare straight into your soul. So, basically all of the aspects of cheerleading and volleyball that don’t involve the attractive women.
Yes, this is starting to sound like a quite obvious pattern. Between the Hamburglar, Crook, and these walking Koosh balls, McDonald’s figured the most effective marketing method was to make you believe your recently-purchased food for would be stolen away from you by moronic mascots. Diagnosis: Mc-agita.
To McDonald’s credit, they created a playground ride that aptly matched the excitement of The Fry Guys.
Blumes note: No hands, yet they purchased shoes with laces instead of Velcro. Poor shopping choice, Fry Guys.
CHAPTER VII: SEE, I’M NOT A MONSTER, I’M JUST AHEAD OF THE CURVE
RONALD McDONALD’S CONFESSION LETTER:
To Whom It May Concern,
I, Ronald McDonald, or “Ron” as I wish to be called, hereby admit to the number of charges of being a colossal creep, even by clown standards.
First off, I am not even Scottish, it just rhymes with “Ronald”. Secondly, this is not my natural hair color, I have been hoping to score the part of Little Orphan Annie in an off-Broadway theatrical run of Annie.
Most importantly, I apologize for my maniacal thousand-yard stare, constant serial killer smile, and the fact you’ll see me in your sleep the way you heard creaks and squeaks for weeks following a viewing of Paranormal Activity. When the borderline psychotic Burger King king was still the second-most terrifying fast-food corporate spokesman, I know I did something wrong.
Oh yeah, I also killed Waldo and stole his shirt. He’s buried and decaying under the Hamburglar swing.
See you in your nightmares,
P.S.– I also peed in the all the McFlurry machines in Michigan.
Hey kid- If this is true, your dreams stink.
The preceding is a work of parody, and I do not own any of the photos used. Except for the Fry Guy ones… I’m making a t-shirt out of that bad boy.