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I can only assume from your cavalier attitude that you have yet to partake in the wonderment that is the McGriddle. Let me enlighten you. What happens is the One True God grows them on trees in the Elysian Fields using a heretofore unused incantation. He then proceeds to magic them down to your local eatery where whatever Ghetto Bastard cook your McDonalds has rescued from welfare that week proceeds to wrap it in cellophane and pass it along to you, the fortunate consumer. You proceed to ingest this finery in the vain hope that your obviously overmatched taste buds can somehow grasp the delectable intricacies it is suddenly faced with. Is that egg? Why yes it is, and bacon too. But wait-they didn't add... yes they did, yes they did indeed. They added cheese. And then, then my friends, they wrap it in a sumptuous pancake bun! As your taste buds try to process that amazing piece of information, IT hits them...the syrup nugget. THE MOTHERFUCKING SYRUP NUGGET! It announces itself with a burst of confectionery grandiosity the likes of which your palate has never seen.
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IS THE IMPOSTOR!” As soon as he did that, the manager told us to leave. I told him that my son is just excited about something, and apologised. But the manager still told us to leave so I picked up the red trash can that my son was going crazy over and threw it on the managers head. Then my son shouted “DEAD BODY REPORTED.” Can someone please tell me what on earth is wrong with him?