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Friday, August 3, 2012

4 Fast Food Controversies "They" Don't Want You To Know About

Chick-Fil-A isn't the only fast food eatery in American to cause an unholy uproar.  Most of our nation's most popular grease merchants have, at one time or another, courted controversy.  Here are a few examples our research team (i.e. me) found that you might not be aware of.  Don't wait to read this one, kids.  "They" are watching.

1. Grimace's autobiography:  Forget the fact that it is rife with misspellings and scathing, unproven details of the sexual goings-on in the bedrooms of McDonaldland, Grimace's 1983 biography, I'm Grimace: Like It or Lump It, remains a sore spot for the McDonald's Corporation.  Grimace does not mince words when it comes to describing Hamburgler's well publicized battle with chronic kleptomania and Birdy's meth addiction, nor does he hesitate to detail his three month, implied sexual relationship with Mayor McCheese.  But it's the fifteenth chapter, the longest in Grimace's almost one-thousand page opus, that really bothered some people.  In this chapter, titled "C'mon, Really???," Grimace denies the Holocaust, providing an increasingly inane list of proof he has uncovered through years of study. 


The McDonald's Corporation was obviously horrified by the racist admissions of their second most popular pitchman and called for a mass recall of the book.  "Grimace was clearly not himself when he penned this particular chapter," a spokesperson for McDonald's said at a press conference held outside of McDonaldland's City Hall building.  Grimace had in fact been dealing with his own demons while writing Like It or Lump It (an abusive childhood, an increasingly dangerous addiction to cough syrup), but his own apology, made at the same press conference, friend and AA sponsor Ronald McDonald by his side, left many in the Jewish community cold.  The chapter was removed from subsequent printings, but the world never quite looked at Grimace the same way ever again.

Grimace took his own life in 2007.

2. Arby's "roast beef":  It is a question that has plagued a curious nation for eons: "What is this stuff Arby's calls "roast beef" really?"  Look, I'm a fan of Arby's, but I've also had roast beef, and that stuff on the Big Montana, while certainly meat, is not roast beef.

A few years ago, somebody discovered the answer and it was not pretty.  Meet the source of Arby's meat:

This is obviously an artist's rendering, but Arby's is yet to deny the existence of, well, whatever this is.  Some have described it as a "medium-sized caterpillar-pig" or a "hog-worm with beetle-feet."  Arby's calls it "Hank."  

Here was the official explanation from Arby's following Hank's discovery: "Hank was grown in a lab by Arby's scientist who were given the task to create a new, sustainable, healthier source of meat protein for Arby's exclusive line of sandwiches and shakes.  Hank is succulent, low in toxins, highly murderable, easy to slice and totally delicious, especially with a side of curly fries."



3. Where's the beef, comrade?: Remember that old bag in the Wendy's commercials who was always asking where the beef was located?  Remember how kindly and sweet she seemed, kinda like your own grandmother only on TV yelling about beef?  Remember how she was Soviet spy?  Oh, you don't remember that?  Well, it's true!


Unbeknownst to Dave Thomas, actress Clara Peller was in our country first and foremost to steal nuclear secrets.  The fact that she looked like a nice old lady made it easy for Peller to get into places the likes of which you and I would never have access.  Her role as a Wendy's spokesperson was just icing on the dirty Commie cake.


After "Where's the beef" fever faded into obscurity, Peller got sloppy and it wasn't long before the FBI was hip to her years-long deception.  Before US officials could get their hands on the diminutive pitchwoman, Peller disappeared.  She is considered "at large" to this very day.  


4. No quiero Taco Bell:  Taco Bell has had it's share of controversies (the taco meat isn't meat but, rather, heavily-spiced cardboard; employees are actively encouraged to not wash their hands after using the restroom; the whole "farting" thing), but the worst, and probably the least remembered, centers around one-time spokesdog, Gidget Chipperton.  That's right: the Taco Bell dog had a first and last name.


For some, Gidget was a symbol of corporate racism run amok.  Hispanic-Americans thought the Taco Bell chihuahua, like Speedy Gonzales before her, was mocking their culture and they didn't like it.  To others, however, Gidget was a symbol of hope for a better tomorrow.  And cheap tacos.


So smitten was he with Gidget's hilarious Godzilla-inspired catchphrase "Here leeezard, leeezard, leezard," President Bill Clinton decided, against the advice of much of his staff, to president Gidget with the Medal of Freedom.  At the ceremony, a nervous Gidget, who had unwisely gorged herself on a family-sized box of Cheesy Gorditas, experienced the kind of explosive diarrhea one only reads about in books.  A portion of Gidget's foul, liquid waste found its way into the breast pocket of the President's suit jacket somehow, but the majority wound up on the American flag.  The audience at the ceremony gasped in horror.  The event, which was airing live on all of the major networks, proved detrimental to Taco Bell.  First of all, Gidget, the face of Taco Bell, had callously and thoughtlessly shit on our country's greatest symbol of freedom.  Secondly, and perhaps more damning, many viewers claimed to detect a distinct similarity between Gidget's  projectile feces and the "meat" used in their favorite Taco Bell delicacies.  Taco Bell's popularity plummeted and Gidget was let go.


Gidget took her own life in 2009.



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