McDonald’s will test a meat-free burger in several markets . . . which it has dubbed “McPlant.”SCENE 1. The S’moors.
—CNBC.
SHAKES: Bubble, bubble, rat hair and stubble
Cellulose churn, diglycerides bubble.
(Enter Macmuffin.)
Who is morning taste treat now, Mayor of Arches soon.
MAC: Thy speakest vanilla falsehood, though ’tis true:
I am now morning taste treat; but Mayor of Arches?
I knowest not of what you speak.
In menu marquee
Macmuffin shall appear above all:
Above McNuggets, ’bove McCheese.
MAC: Above McCheese? But this cannot be! The Mayor lives.
Are you sure ’tis I who shall reign?
3 SHAKE: Fear not, Macmuffin. No burger born of beef
Shall e’er have power upon thee.
(Exeunt.)MAC: This strange news hath poached double my yolk.
Could it be true the news from paper cups parted?
Just as milkshakes boast o’ no dairy
And factory farm is a phrase contrary
A muffin testing destiny must be wary.
SCENE 2: Macmuffin’s Castle.
(Enter Lady Filet-O-Fish and Mac.)
MAC: Lady Filet!
How fares my tender fish sandwich?
LADY: Golden brown, my lord, with the news of late:
The forecast of those triple thick hath reached my ears. And hast thou heard? With Mayor McCheese have we for lunch together been order’d.
MAC: ’Tis true then the prophecy!
But dar’st I yank
The sweating patty from its limp bun?
LADY: Hear me now: for with my plan
Greasy arches we shall quickly span.
When McCheese comes, greet him with the smile of Ronald,
But with the heart of Hamburglar.
Mayor Macmuffin you shall be
And no burger born of beef
Shall have the power to stop thee.
This sauce offer, laced it is with drug.
Strike first and never worry
Your heart as cold as a McFlurry.
(Exit. Enter McCheese, Lords, Fries.)MAYOR: Hail noble Macmuffin of Egg
Fulfiller of that most important meal.
MAC: Hail Mayor McCheese!
Yet I see thy patty hath grown dry.
A special sauce will surely greasen thy extremities, making thee juicy anew.
MAYOR: Spread on, then, McMuffin!
My beefy Cheddar awaits.
MAC (aside): Special it is, in both intent and effect.
MAYOR: Yet I feel a sudden fatigue. Go forth, and I will join thee of late.
To my chamber I’ll retire for twenty winks to take. (Exeunt.)
MAC: More than twenty winks into this night he’ll fit—
A sleep of no waking: I’m lovin’ it.
by Jay Martel, New Yorker | Read more:
Image: Luci Gutiérrez
