Short Stories

McDonalds

McDonald’s is a disturbing story about one man’s obsession with the famous fast food restaurant. When his family get tired of eating at McDonald’s, the father is offended and takes matters into his own hands.

McDonald's

My dad was obsessed with McDonald’s. He couldn’t live without it. He wouldn’t eat at just any fast food restaurant. No Burger King, no Wendy’s… It had to be McDonald’s. It got to the point where he would have to eat something from McDonald’s at least once a day.

Sometimes, for breakfast, he would run out and get a Sausage and Egg McMuffin. For lunch, he would grab a McChicken Sandwich or a Bacon Double Cheeseburger. His favorite meal was a Big Mac and Fries.

He enjoyed the food, but the rest of the family quickly got tired of it. After a while, my mother, my sister and myself couldn’t put up with it anymore. We couldn’t bear to look at another Chicken McNugget.

Gradually, we started trying avoid eating at McDonald’s with him. When he realized what we were doing, it really irritated him. He acted like we had somehow betrayed him by not liking McDonald’s.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded one day. “Why won’t you come to McDonald’s? Is it because you don’t want to eat with me?”

My mom looked at the floor and my sister pretended she hadn’t heard him.

“It’s not that, Dad,” I explained awkwardly. “It’s just that we don’t want to eat at McDonald’s anymore…”

He stared at us for a few moments, then shook his head sadly and left. Twenty minutes later, he came back with a Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese and ate it alone in the living room. He spent the rest of the evening sulking and giving us dirty looks.

One night, after I finished my homework and watched a little TV, I decided to go to bed. My little sister was already fast asleep on the top of the bunk bed. I turned off the light in the bedroom and quietly slid into the bottom bunk, taking care not to wake her.

Some time later, I heard our bedroom door creak open. Squinting in the light from the hallway, I could see a figure standing in the doorway. I blinked my eyes in surprise. It was Ronald McDonald. He was just standing there, silently staring at us. He didn’t seem to be aware that I was awake.

In the dim light, he crept into the room and tip-toed quietly over to our bunk bed. From where I was lying, on the bottom bunk, I could see him reach out and start to shake my sister.

“I’m lovin’ it!” he shoued. “HA HA HA! I’m lovin’ it! I’m lovin’ it! HA HA HA!”

I heard my sister’s piercing scream as the bed began shaking violently. All of a sudden, something fell off the top bunk and hit the desk below, knocking it over and scattering pens and notebooks all over the floor.

From the doorway, I heard my mother’s voice cry out in alarm, “What the HELL are you doing?”

Ronald McDonald rushed over and turned on the light. At that moment, I realized that it was just my dad dressed up in a Ronald McDonald costume.

I rubbed my eyes and looked around. Underneath the overturned desk, I saw part of my sister’s pink pajamas peeping out. There was a pool of blood forming around it. My mother began screaming hysterically and my father just stood there in shock.

The ambulance came a few minutes later and the paramedics rushed in. They looked at my dad in astonishment and my dad, in his excitement, punched one of them in the face. It was absolute chaos.

My mom kept shouting, “No! No! You stay at home!” but my dad pushed her out of the way and scrambled into the back of the ambulance with my sister. Our neighbors were all standing in their gardens in their pyjamas, watching us, dumbfounded.

There wasn’t much they could do for my sister in the hospital. She had injured her spine and her brain in her fall. When the doctors eventually let her come home, she just lay on the bed, her eyes open wide, her teeth clench and unclenching and her arms and legs waving uncontrollably.

Before the accident, my sister had been so sweet and pretty, but now she was completely changed. She couldn’t speak. All she could do was groan, ““Nnnnmph, nnnnmmmm, nnnhmmmmn, Daaaaghhhdyyyyyyy…”

When my mom asked my dad why he did it, he told her it was to make us like McDonald’s more.

My mom cried. I said nothing. My dad just kept munching on his Big Mac.

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