Mayor McCheese: I'm Back Bitches

As I looked at myself in the mirror of Mads' bathroom at his new McDonald's, fixing my sash and making sure my hat was on straight, I breathed a large sigh. Relief? Maybe. Perhaps more likely, I was breathing a new life into my once tired bones. It had been a long time coming.

I thought back to months before: a commercial that turned my stomach. Two young men... We're into nuggets y'all... ketchup and mayo... the pain was near unbearable. I went to the man in charge and expressed my outrage. Was this what it had come to? My arguments fell upon deaf ears. "This is what's in," Ronald told me. "Viral videos. Customer generated content. This is the YouTube generation." "But it's not," I pleaded. "This is so bad. It's not LonelyGirl15 or OK Go!, this is two losers sending you a dumb video. You're annoying the people of America!"

The fight became more heated, and I threw my sash and hat into the bin on my way out. Ronald did nothing to make me to stay, so convinced was he that his New Way was the path to venture. I was so disgusted, I went into hiding, playing Grand Theft Auto for hours on end, and reading Dos Passos' USA trilogy. But then, a voice spoke to me from beyond.

It was the Hamburgler. His Robble Robble told me all I needed to know. My old adversary, Mads, decided to open his own McDonald's franchise. He was serving Fois Gras extra value meals, and bringing back old favorites like the McRibb and the McJordan. I felt like I was needed again. I had a new purpose. I didn't even change my clothes, just left in what I was wearing, and drove straight from Chicago to Massachusetts in my beat-up Chevy Celebrity.

Now I'm back, and I'm ready to put the horrible past behind me. I had kids to entertain, lives to change. I took one last look in the mirror, and made my way out there, into the great unknown.... It was gonna be one hell of a 2008!

Mayor McCheese: So There

What was I doing dating a stripper? Sure, they're all kinds of hot, but a little nutty too, if you know what I mean?

So anyway, I'm dating this chick named Neveah, heaven spelled backwards. At least that was her stripper name, which isn't bad for a stripper name. Her real name was Betty, I think, but it doesn't matter.

I had Ronald over the other day, because I needed to sign some papers. This was like noonish, and Neveah comes thundering in, telling me she needs me to get her an 8-ball toot sweet. Of course the whole thing was kind of embarrassing, because Ronald was there, and I hate it when he judges me.

I tried shooing her off, but she was too strung out to get the hint, and started screaming at me to not patronize her. I needed to do something quick. I threw a Rubik's Cube at her, hitting her above the eye, which caused her to fall back and hit her head on the corner of a table. Upon examination, I realized I'd killed her. I'd acted again without thinking. Ronald sighed.

"Another mess you need me to clean up for you, I guess."

I snapped my fingers, and Big Mac aficionado Ron Gorske and the Hamburglar wrapped the body up in plastic and set to work sanitizing the area.

"I should have this one under control," I said. So there.

Mayor McCheese: Limited Late-Nite Menu

Me and Hamburglar were taking a break from some late night partying, and we figured, what better than to hit some McDonald's. We piled in my Caddy and made our way down to the local 24-hour drive-thru. Neither of us had done this before.

"Yeah, I'll have 20 Double Cheeseburgers and 20 Small Fries and a parfait."

"I'm sorry sir, but we only have a limited late night menu, which does not include the Dollar Menu."

"Yeah, but I'm the fucking Mayor. I own you, bitch."

"Actually, no, Ronald owns me."

The next day I had a little talk with Ronnie.

"You see, Mayor, we've looked over the cost/benefit analysis of our menu. After midnight, when we dump certain items, especially the Dollar Menu, our profits skyrocket. Let me put it another way: if we had a full menu after midnight, your monthly checks would be cut in half."

"Fine, whatever. But we should advertise that instead of making commercials with guys taking food out of other guys' dreams."

"No we shouldn't."

He had a point.

Mayor McCheese: Attention Mayor

I received this troubling e-mail the other day:

Attention Mayor

Greetings,

I write to seek your services in a private and confidential matter regarding some funds unaccounted for in our bank here in Ghana during the last 2006 business year. As a Regional Manager in this Bank, I deposited this fund in an ESCROW ACCOUNT at our headquarters pending when I shall get a reliable person. This requires a private arrangement. Could you perhaps be able to receive these funds under legal claims then I will fill you in. I will appreciate for fewer questions asked and your participation will be 30%of the total money.

There are practically no risks involved, the transaction will be executed under a legitimate arrangement that will protect you from any breach of the law, it will be simply a bank-to-bank transfer. I have all the details and will fill you in if you are really willing. Your major role would be to provide an existing account or open a new bank account where the funds will be transferred and stand as the original depositor of this fund in our bank,as long as you will remain honest to me till the end for this important business trusting in you and believing that you will never let me down either now or in future.

At this juncture, I wish to tell you what prompted me to package this deal.I have a 9yrs old daughter who has leukemia, a disease of the blood, and she needs a bone marrow transplant or she will die. I want this transplanting to be done in any good children's hospital in your Country, if there is one.Once this fund is transferred into your account, I shall resign from my job and bring my family to start a new life in your country all correspondences will be via email and my private phone number: [censored] for now.

The funds in question are quite large,Ten million ,eight hundred and fifty thousand United States Dollars ($10,850,000.00). I will expect a straight answer from you. If yes, please get back to me with your full name, address, private phone and fax number so that we can work out the modalities without further delay including your phone number for easy communication..

With best regards,

Mr.Richard Kofi Addo

I contacted Ronald, who told me under no circumstances was I to go to Ghana. But I had revenge on my mind: no one uses kids to extort money, especially not in McDonaldland.

Mayor McCheese: DC Madam Scandal

I got a call from Ronald's office that he needed to see me. I had an idea of what it could be.

"Come in and sit down, Mayor."

I did.

"Have you seen this?"

I looked at the Chicago Tribune headline reading "Burger Icon Snared in Madam Scandal."

"I don't know what to tell you, Ronald."

"I know, and I think that's what distresses me the most."

Mayor McCheese: Burger Con... Um, nope

After the success of the King's underground marketing campaign, Ronald's gotten nervous. He's afraid we'll lose the Superfan, i.e. the 18-28 male demographic that eats Kit-Kats for lunch.

The problem here is two-fold. First, I should be the McDonald's answer to the King. With my stints on Conan and with the dude from Cobra Starship saying I was in his band, people still dig me. Unfortunately I'm unavailable due to the horrible Sid and Marty Kroft settlement. If McDonald's uses me in an official advertising capacity, they're done.

The second problem is that we aren't after the Superfans. They'll come to us regardless. We need the rest of them. We need the kids whose parents don't have time to cook dinner. We need the worker with a short lunch hour whose got no other option. We need the family coming home from a road trip whose stopping in to grab something to eat that's quick and right off the highway.

I brought up my concerns to Ronald and he laughed.

"You just don't get it, do you, Mayor?"

Mayor McCheese: Jumping in Paul Newman

As I may have mentioned before, our coffee is the bomb, and everyone is digging it. We have Paul Newman, he of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, The Hustler, and The Long Hot Summer, to thank for this, as McDonald's has had a long standing partnership with his Newman's Own brand, the same brand which makes the coffee.

Now, we don't just let anyone into our gang. You need to earn your stripes, you know what I mean, so when the deal was finalized that we'd feature Newman's Own products in our store, I invited Mr. Newman to my house so he could be initiated properly into our ranks. He needed to be jumped in.

He knew something wasn't right when he saw the whole crew minus Ronald surround him. Officer Big Mac shut the door.

"What's going on here?" He said.

"Robble robble, robble robble."

"That's right, Hamburglar, it's initiation time. Guys, masks on."

We all pulled down our hockey masks and moved in his direction. He was lucky, though. Ronald stopped in just in time and pulled him out of there. Apparently Grimace couldn't keep his trap shut.

Mayor McCheese: Mayor, the Substitute

Sometimes I need to make some alternative sources of income so I have something to show Uncle Sam when tax time comes. One of the jobs I'll take from time to time is a substitute teacher.

It's an easy gig. I bring tons of MckeyDees for the kids, fill out a bunch of library passes, and put The Jerry Springer Show on the TV. For that, I earn $75. At the same time, I can keep my pager active, and conduct other business.

Ronald called me into his office the other day. It seems my activities as a sub were giving the company a bad name. We aren't supposed to blatantly promote kids eating that much of our food, and my presence in the Windy City's school system contradicts this. Ronald agreed to repay my lost wages by doctoring the books and saying I cleaned toilets part-time. Though I had to accept his decision, I was disappointed. I enjoyed working with America's youth.

Mayor McCheese: No More Sopranos

I caught the last Sopranos like everyone else did last night. I'm not sure what to think. If the idea is that that was an open-ended ending, then it's the worst case of hack writing I've ever seen. If the idea was that you never see the one with your name on it, then it's a cool ending.

I must say, I was more worried about how the episode killed the boring NBA Finals in the ratings. The Sopranos, as I'm sure you already know, is on HBO, which means we don't earn any advertising during it. On the other hand, we have a lot invested in the NBA Finals. I think I'm gonna talk to Ronald, and see about us getting an endorsement deal with the UFC.

Mayor McCheese: Wild Rebels Cereal

I attended a recent McDonald's board meeting, and let me tell you, it sucked a fat one. Most of the time I spent daydreaming and doodling on the table. I also had to deal with Ronald's inability to comprehend my sarcasm.

"Do you have any suggestions Mayor on how we can revamp our breakfast menu?" He said.

"Sure, Wild Rebels Cereal."

"Wild Rebels Cereal?"

"Yeah, it's like biker themed. There's little marshmellow chains and skuls and cross bones. It's not a bad deal."

"Whatever you say, Mayor."

The others snickered. I was pissed, so I opened a beer and lit a Parliament.

Mayor McCheese: Love and a .45

Ronald invited me to play tennis and have lunch with him a few afternoons ago. I won't lie, I'm not a great tennis player. I know, as a mayor, I should be great at tennis, golf, what have you, but I'm just not always so good at being a Richy McKhakipants, you know?

Of course, Ronald is excellent at the game, and he was roundly destroying me. I was losing like 80 million love, and I'd had just about enough. For some reason I just could not get my racket to hit the ball the way I wanted to, and it needed to pay. I put it on the ground, allowed it to smoke a last cigarette, and then blindfolded it with a do-rag I had in my backpocket. I shot it with my .45. Ronald rolled his eyes.

Mayor McCheese: God Damned Chapstick!

I was over at the local Laundromat, doing my laundry, drinking a forty, and eating a new McDonald's Cheddar Melt. I pulled some of my shirts out of the dryer, and my chapstick fell on the floor. It took a second to realize what had happened: I fucking left it in my pants, and it went through with my clothes. As they dried, the intense heat melted it, and I had lip balm all over my shit. I was pissed.

I probably should've cooled off, but at the same moment, I noticed that Red, the local nutty military buff, was cleaning out his gun while his fatigues were washing. He had two grenades on his vest, and I grabbed one, pulled the pin, and lobbed it into the dryer where my clothes were. Luckily, no one died in the explosion.

As a side note, Red was institutionalized, because no one believed that the Mayor McCheese threw a grenade into a dryer. I had Ronald make sure he was sent a Cheddar Melt Value Meal as a consolation.

Mayor McCheese: Heads Up With Ronald

With Moon Knight back in town, I thought it might be a good idea to keep a low profile, so I had the gang over for a little poker night.

Now it might be a good idea to explain how the table plays. Grimace: he's been known to lose pots on purpose just to make people think he has no clue; Officer Big Mac: plays very conservatively, and gets really pissed when he loses hands, especially when he had the better hand and ended up getting a bad beat; Birdie: she can definitely hang, and I hate being heads up in a big pot with her; the Hamburglar: impossible to read; finally, Ronald: I've never seen anyone better at knowing what his opponents are holding.

I'll cut right to the chase. The cards were coming my way; it was just my night. In the end, I found myself heads up with Ronald, and I had about a two-to-one chip lead. My first hand was ace-queen suited. I called the big blind and left it to Ronald. He raised. I went all in. And then it happened.

"Get buck naked bitches!"

Two men in ski masked barged in. I could hear from the voice that it was Verona, probably coming to reclaim his VCR. Ronald was not impressed. He gave me look. I thought he was going to try something, and he wanted me to have his back. I was wrong.

The windows of my house were shattered, and four men in SWAT gear swarmed in. They took out Verona and his friend with a taser.

"Are you all right, sir?" One of them asked Ronald.

"I'll be a lot better when I get out of here."

Whatever.

Mayor McCheese: It's That Time of Year Again

Every year at this time, Captain Crook comes out of hiding. It's Lent, and Captain Crook was made for Lent. The idea is if people can't eat meat, they can eat the Fillet-O-Fish Sandwich. Of course, now, the only devout practicing Catholics in this country who give a shit about that are old people; and the Fillet-O-Fish tastes too much like ass crack for people to eat it otherwise, so Crook's raison-d'etre has changed a bit.

Women of Chicago, close your shades, at least until Easter. I mean, you can keep the shades open if you want to see a man dressed as a pirate watching you undress, but most women aren't into that. I have been working day and night in the McDonald's lab to create a substitute for the Fillet-O-Fish so the Captain will have something better to do with his time, but it's difficult. Fish just isn't something one can pull off in a cost effective manner and still have it taste good.

I've considered letting the Cap go and do what he's doing, because it's actually good for the company. One year, the local fuzz got to him before our own Officer Big Mac could, and he was all over the news. We got so much free publicity, our sales shot up 13.8%, mostly from Muslim communities, because they can't eat non Halal meat, but they can eat the fish. They would've never known about this option had it not been for Crook's fortuitous arrest.

But Ronald flatly vetoed my suggestion. He felt having a peeping tom as a form of underground advertising strategy was too Burger King, and it wasn't us to stoop that low. I had to agree with him. Now I'm back at work trying to make that new fish sandwich.