Be Your McLovin

Colonel McDaddy

"Hi there, little rabbit," the Colonel said and Ronald's face turned as red as his hair (even though he had no blood to rush to his lil pie face).

Dude!

What? You're as white as freakin milk.

Ugh.

He never thought he'd see the man in stripes again, and vowed to bury the memories of their time together as deep down as the cover-ups of his ex-business. But here he was, in the fibre glass, staring down at him with a menacing smile.

"Wendy, weren't you complaining about the workload the other day?" the Colonel asked. Wendy shifted uncomfortably - as if she was reliving a painful talking-to from an agitated parent who didn't want to stay another minute at the restaurant.

"Yes Colonel," she replied and The Colonel's grin widened. "Well here's your solution, two plastic husks, ready to be put to the test," he said ominously.

"I have rights!" Ronald heard the distressed voice from his beloved Burger King behind him and he realised their chairs were tied together back to back as some of the familiar characters turned to walk around to his dear King. The Colonel stayed put though, staring into Ronald's wide foolish naive optimistic plasticy eyeballs.

"No you don't, pretty boy, you are made out of earth-murdering waste. If anything - you have negative rights!" Wendy taunted and he could hear his McLove's sobs so he reached for his hand to comfort him. The Colonel saw this and when his eyes turned to Ronald's, he could see it struck a nerve, even though he didn't have any.

"Humph. They couldn't sneak into a Walmart let alone an Ikea!" Tony grumped and Sanders tilted his superior fiberglass head. "Indeed they couldn't," he agreed.

"But they can break into Big Business™."

"No! Not Big Business™!" Chuck squeeked.

"That's how we lost The Pillsbury Doughboy!" Wendy cried.

"What's Big Business?"

"Big Business™," Koolaid corrected.

"That's what I said-"

"It's the biggest business in the business world," Colonel explained.

"Top security, informed guards, and Tazer: Melts," Tony continued.

"They have everything! Couches, PCs, rugs, chandeliers, books, video games, bombs, food, paintings, radioactive waste, puzzles, paint, your mom!" Chuck happily listed.

"Just to name a few," Wendy rolled her eyes.

"We can't do that!" his King cried out. "We aren't criminals like you!"

"Oh ho ho! But you can!" Sanders smirked and bent down to look Ronald in the eye. "At least... he can."

"Oh McShit! Your McTouch!" Sammy put together and Ronald grimaced. Darn his plot convenience!

"What'd'ya say gentlemen? Are you gonna help us with the heist..." Sanders folded his arms.

"Or be melted into lawn chairs?" he threatened, his cold unmoving eyes becoming colder and more unmoving-ing...? Unmove-erish? Immovable? Immovable! Nope. Eh, you get the point.

"Heist!" Ronald immediately said.

"Lawn ch- I mean heist!" his dear stupid lover chimed and Ronald looked at him accusingly over his shoulder.

"I don't know, lawn chairs sounded nice. Kinda beach esc, y'know?"

"Heist," Ronald confirmed for them as he returned his gaze to the Colonel.

"Good. Chuck?"

Chuck walked towards them and Ronald screamed a scream so high pitched they all heard some dogs start howling.

"What? I don't have any diseases ya numbskull, those are harmful stereotypes. Plus, you're made of plastic, you can't get sick."

"Oh, no, you misunderstood me dear sir, I merely screamed for I have been attacked by rats mere hours ago so I have associated you with those rats in my mind and thus I produced that terrified scream to signal my fright."

Ronald then screamed again.

"Posh fast food mascots," Chuck grumbled under his breath and untied them, letting Ronald run into the arms of his McLove so that he may protect him once more within his room temperature limbs. Like butter.

"Leave us." The Colonel demanded of his audience and the rest of the crew scattered about to their set corners, the lights now finally losing their dramatic timing and shedding the room in just a little itty bitty smidge of light.

"I see you've found yourself a... common plastic companion," Sanders sneered.

"Hi!" the big McLovable oaf waved with the clown in his arms.

"Yes mm hello," Sanders greeted with disgust.

"This is uh..." Ronald touched his feet back onto the ground and stood. "This is Sammy. He is the King of Burgers."

"I've heard, though never quite tasted..." The Colonel jabs.

"Hey! They have perfectly good food."

"We are in fast food, if it isn't inedible, it's never good!" The Colonel retorted.

The McLovers looked at each other and shrugged. "Fair," the pair proclaimed in unison, admitting to the dismal swamp that is their enterprise.

Sanders looked them both up and down. "How cute. You talk in unison. Like twins."

"Ick, that's not what I want to imagine right now," Sammy said, Ronald leaning in to pat his back.

"So... have you guys..." Sanders searched for information, totally not like jealous or anything, like he's totally cool with it, okay? He's found a bunch of other mascots too. He's been... gettin' it...

Oh god he's so old... It's been a long time since his birth as an old man in the 1890s. It's hard to keep up with the times, alright?

"What? Held hands? Yeah, you saw us do it like a minute ago."

"Not hold hands! Y'know..." he rolled his hand as he continued to imply innuendos.

"Hug? We were just hugging-"

"No, you innocent fool!"

"I think I know what he means Roro..." The Burger King stepped in. "He wants to know if we've sacrificed anyone yet."

"No! Why would I ever ask that?" Sanders yelled.

"Wait but... um... H-Have you?" he then asked, frowning.

"Not recently no," Ronald said and glanced up at his McLove.

"Nope, kinda stopped after the recession," Sammy shrugged.

"Yeah, kinda sucks the fun out of it if the humans actually wanna die," Ronald concurred.

Sanders looked horrified and slowly backed away from the pair before bolting to where Tony was sitting by the old box TV, playing an Atari game.

"Psychos..." Sanders muttered as he and Tony shared the microwaved butter popcorn while our pair of himbos started playing musical chairs with their kidnapping fold-out metal seats.