People of McDonaldland, it’s time to open our eyes.
For too long, we’ve consumed the flaccid, reheated lies spewed by our red-haired, clownish patriarch. We must acknowledge the truth – McDonaldland, our home, is nothing more than a broken ice cream machine funneling the used fryer fat of our labor to those at the top of the Dollar Menu. Starting today, we need to stand up against Mayor McCheesy and his cronies, severing our ties with the cult of Ronald.
From this point on, our pulses must thump for The Hamburglar.
This masked provocateur, this one-man band of thievery, hell-bent on disrupting the burger status quo, will extract us from this capitalistic dystopia, a black-caped messiah guiding us to the promised land. He will sling our hopeless souls over his shoulder like a limp sack of cheeseburgers, reinvigorating our spirit as we bounce against his strutting buttocks.
You may doubt his resolve – The Hamburglar is indeed a criminal. By his nature, one would assume that this rascal is only out to enrich himself. That’s what McRoyal with Sleaze and his band of happy companions want you to think. But, if we look deeper, we quickly realize that the math doesn’t math. If the Hamburglar’s goals were self-serving, he would steal rare commodities – soda syrup, a working ice cream machine, a salad. But, no, this hero chooses a product he can carry onto the streets like a Santa Claus of meat and government cheese sandwiches, allowing him to easily slip his wares to the needy. He doesn’t just steal burgers; he steals hearts and minds – and that’s the kind of wealth redistribution I can get behind.
These petty larcenies are a match igniting a raging inferno of discontent aimed at the red-lipped buffoon. The Hamburglar’s round, childlike face is a symbol, an updated Guy Fawkes uniting us as we charge into the fray. He taunts the McDonaldland elites by wearing his black & white striped shirt – as if to say, “I’m already a prisoner in your corrupt system!” With a stolen burger gripped in his raised fist, the Hamburglar holds the strength of the people, supersizing our daydreams of a future filled with equity and extra sauce.
It is time for us to stand together as a combo meal of revolution, unified against this regime of used fry grease oligarchs, placed in their unelected positions of influence. We starve, grimacing with hunger pains, while they stuff their androgynous, purple faces full of McRibs. No more.
Gone are the days when our goofy overlord and his makeup-slathered face could lounge under his golden arches sipping Shamrock Shakes. We will stir up chaos like a McFlurry of blood, sweat, and tears, chanting “Robble, Robble, Topple, Topple” until McDonaldland is a home for all the McPeople, not just the McFew.
Ronald can wipe that permanent grin from his face.
The Hamburglar is my daddy now.
BRIAN SACCA is a writer/actor/director who has created and starred in film, TV, and digital media for over a decade. His short stories have been published by Birdy, Maudlin House, Slackjaw, Fairfield Scribes, and the Lowestoft Chronicle. Sacca’s feature screenplay, BUFFALOED, was produced into a Tanya Wexler-helmed film starring Zoey Deutch and Judy Greer. The New York Times gave it a “critics pick” and called it “zippily entertaining.” @briansacca
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