I... I Have A Confession To Make.
I have an addiction problem, and in order to fully understand it, I think you need to hear my story.
It started one afternoon after school. I was walking home when I decided to take a shortcut through an alley. I rarely took it, but it tended to save a lot of time and the newest episode of Power Rangers was going to be on. So I made my way through the alley when a clown emerged from the shadows. He wore a yellow jumpsuit and his white pasty face was accented with red paint around his mouth. He had a red M on his breast pocket.
Most children are scared of clowns, but I tended to enjoy them. So I went to greet the clown and asked if he had a balloon animal for me. He said, "No, but I have something even better!" He then pulled a little cardboard box in the shape of a house out of his jumpsuit. It was marked with cute little cartoon characters and inside was a hamburger, fries, and a small soda. The clown called it a 'Happy Meal." I joyfully ate it and the clown told me that there would be another one tommorow.
So I joyfully went to the clown each day after school. Each day he would give me the same happy meal. Sometimes it would have nuggets, sometimes a hamburger. Eventually the clown said he couldn't afford to give me free happy meals anymore and that I would have to pay. Luckily, my lunch money was enough to cover the meal, so I was ok. One day when I went I noticed that the Clown was giving a white bag enbelished with a yellow M to a stranger. When I asked the clown what was in the bag, he said that it was a 'value meal' and that I could have one when I got older.
Eventually I found that the Happy Meal no longer satisfied my hunger and thirst. I asked the clown if he had anything more filling and he gave me a bag just like the one he had given the stranger. Inside was a larger fry, a larger drink, and a larger burger called a 'Big Mac'. I thanked the clown and dug into the delicious burger. The burger had a strange sauce that caused a tingling of euphoria down my body. I was hooked. The clown offered me some other entrees in exchange for the Big Mac such as a 'Big N' Tasty, or a 'Mc Rib', but I found that only the Big Mac could satisfy me.
It was at this time I started showing symptoms of addiction. Whenever I didn't have a Big Mac I became iritable and violent. I would often shout and get angry at people for no reason. I spent large amounts of time in my dark room drooling over the thought of another Mac.
However it was not long before I had to 'Value Size' my already 'Value Meal." The costs mounted and I found that I could no longer afford my addiction. I began selling things in my house, my bionicles, my video games, my TV, until I had nothing in my room but a matress. It was then that he stepped into my life. Some people called him a criminal, some called him a modern robinhood, but everyone called him the Hamburgler. I joined his gang and together the world was our fast food restaurant. I remember those day clear as crystal. We would perform lightening fast food raids on the various clowns across the city. We had more than enough for ourselves. We held the clowns in terror for a year until we were both caught by the police. I was let off on the premise that I was a kid and I didn't know better.
So here I stand, a slave to the Big Mac with no escape. I make a desprate plea to the members of BZP. Do not follow the path that I have taken, for there is only obesity at the end.