Chris Kempczinski, CEO of McDonald’s, was sitting at his desk, eating a hummus and sprouts sandwich at 2:00 p.m. on Jan. 6, when his loyal assistant Becky came roaring into the office.
Barely catching her breath, she said “Boss, Boss —turn on your TV.” She spoke with the same intensity she had evinced on 911. He grabbed the remote, his heart racing. What now?
He watched for a few minutes, then turned to her and said, “What the hell is this?” He threw up his hands.
“Trump supporters are attacking the Capitol, sir. They just came from a rally with Trump. He fired them up with his usual macho rhetoric and ended by telling them to go to the Capitol.”
“Good Christ. Get me David on the phone,” he barked.
“Yes, sir,” she said and pivoted toward the door.
When the call came through, Chris hollered, “David, are you watching this?” David was Director of Marketing.
“Yes.”
“Are we still delivering free Big Macs and Cokes to this idiot?”
“Yes.”
“Cancel him. Cancel him now.”
“But sir, the blow back.”
“I don’t care. We’re bigger than Trump, we’re better than Trump. I don’t want some Big-Mac Coke-Swilling-junkie-traitor to be the face of our business any longer.”
“I’ll get on it right away, Sir.”
“Disgraceful, just disgraceful,” said Mr. Kempzcinski as he hung up the phone. “He’s trashed our brand for good.”
“They can’t do this to me,” Trump hollered when his Chief of Staff Mark Meadows told him his free McDonalds orders had been cancelled. Permanently.
“After all the free advertising I’ve given them?” cried Trump. “That my superpowers come from Big Macs and Diet Cokes, that I beat COVID because of Big Macs and Cokes? I made them Great Again. Sales jumped when people around the world learned that all I eat are Big Macs and Diet Cokes. Ungrateful bastards. Who does this Camshitsky . . .”
“Kempczinsk, Sir. It’s Chris Kempczinski who’s the CEO.”
“Oh, great. He isn’t even American. Mark, tell my staff to drive to the nearest McDonalds from now on and bring me my order. Tell them to drive their own cars so no one will know they’re getting the order for me.”
Despite their attempt to hide their identities, word soon spread that Trump was sending his staff in unmarked cars. One after another after another, McDonald’s refused them service. They were now having to drive into Virginia and Maryland to fetch his orders.
When Trump heard that, he yelled, “F*ck ‘em. I’m going to sic the Proud Boys, The Oath Keepers and the others in my private militia to go out and destroy all their franchises. So much for the Golden Arches! That’ll teach ‘em to mess with Trump.”
“Trump is not done with Trumpism just yet,” Trump shouted and raised his clenched fist. “You’ll see.”
Rosie Sorenson is a humor writer in the San Francisco Bay Area. You can contact her at: RosieSorenson29@yahoo.com.
From The Progressive Populist, February 15, 2021
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