Picked up newspaper today. Headline same as its been all week. Mysterious, monstrous clown has been kidnapping children. Children never seen again. Police baffled. LOLSCHACH several steps ahead of them, as usual.
Know who freakish childnapping clown is.
Not that one.
Or that one.
Or that one.
Yes. That's him.
Ronald Willard McDonald. Last I heard, the clown went crazy. Not in funny, wacky circus way, either. Clown stitched fourteen toddlers together with rusty knitting needle and yarn, painted them purple and dubbed them "The Grimace". Believed Grimace to be best friend. Dragged screaming children around town on old Radio Flyer wagon, screaming "Do you believe in magic!?" repeatedly, like broken record.
Took seven cops to subdue McDonald. Three were injured to the point of early retirement. They were the lucky ones. Took doctors hours to unstitch the giant purple lump of screaming prepubescent humanity. Meanwhile, McDonald was deemed "insane" and locked away in the deepest, darkest vault the American psychiatric system could find.
Escaped two weeks ago. McDonald's intent is obvious. Wants to rebuild the Grimace. Reunite with his "best friend". Must be stopped.
Head down to police station to report suspicion. Don't like working with cops. Hate it. But children's lives are in danger. Donut pigs need all the help they can get.
Officer Big Mac greets me. Strange-looking man. Head is made of two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles and onions on a sesame seed bun. Dealt with him before. Not friends. Pays no heed to my warnings. Responds with standard tripe, "Do you have any proof that Ronald McDonald is back in town? No? That's what I thought. Ronald is a victim; a sad case. Even though he did escape from the Golden Arches Sanitarium two weeks ago, I don't think for a second he'd commit the same, tragic crimes."
Hurm. Big Mac and McDonald were friends prior to the clown's sudden bout of insanity. Old ties still bind. Cop trying to cover for friend. Sickening.
Decide to go over Big Mac's head. Next stop is City Hall. Intend to share suspicions with highest authority in town: Mayor McCheese.
Stupid. McCheese is in on conspiracy. McDonald once rescued him from man-eating serial killer and compulsive larcenist, the Hamburglar. McCheese obviously still owes McDonald a favor.
This city is grotesquely corrupt. Obese. Aiding and abedding known torturers of children. Their non-recycable behavior sickens me. Stomach in knots. Haven't felt this bad since time I ate that McBoo pail full of fries.
Prowl city. Hit the usual places where child-hungry pedophiles and freaks lurk: elementary schools, ice cream parlors, playgrounds, anime conventions. Patrol lasts all night, but eventually hit paydirt.
Strange creatures, like anthropomorphic pom-poms with googly eyes, run away at high speed with children strapped to backs. They're called the Frykids. Work for McDonald. Harvesting children. Big haul tonight. Enough to complete a new Grimace.
Can't let that happen.
Give chase. Frykids lead me to abandoned remains of Albert's Abattoir. Busted a child harvesting operation there on the 22nd of March. Place appears to be magnet for horrors in this city. Hurm.
Burst in through skylight. Frykids panic and escape through the windows. Let them go. Only after the big fish, tonight. Spot McDonald in back of empty room. Rusty meathook attached to length of chain in hand. Children cowering in corner. McDonald looks different. Darker. Knows LOLSCHACH is here. Doesn't even look in my direction while addressing me.
"They took my best friend from me. Then, they took him apart. I didn't sew him together well enough last time. Gonna use chains this time. Then they'll never take the Grimace apart again. And we can go back to the Hamburger Patch where we belong...forever...and ever..."
Clown is out of his mind. Pull out grappling hook. Aim for head. Prepare to fire.
Dark, caped man in large black Andalusian hat attacks me from behind. Drop grappling hook. Man has me in choke-hold. Chomps into ear with large buck-teeth. Whispers "Rubble Rubble!"
The Hamburglar? McDonald working with the Hamburglar? Insanity makes for strange bedfellows. Fought Hamburglar once before. He and partner in crime, Captain Crook, had taken a schoolbus full of McNugget Buddies hostage. Shot Birdie, the busdriver. Dreiberg and I managed to subdue the villains and put them behind bars.
Long time ago. Younger then. Let criminals live. Hamburglar had his chance. Now, he will be put down.
Slam head backward into Hamburglar's jaw, knocking out buck-teeth. Hamburglar stumbles backward, gripping bloody mouth. Grunts "Warghggle Warghggle!" repeatedly. Kick him in ribs. Hamburglar falls over on back. Assumes a position of surrender. Begs for mercy.
Hamburglar is way past his expiration date. Dispose of him like a feces-flavored McFlurry. McDonald is next.
Clown is fast worker. Children have already been doused in purple paint. McDonald is about make the first stitch. No time to think, only to act. See canisters of helium used previously for inflating balloons. Grab one canister and rush towards the clown. Knock him to the ground, knee at his chin. Cries of children pound at my ears. Think fast. Raw instinct.
Hose of cannister goes into his mouth. Hold lips tight with fists. McDonald's body inflates, eyes open wide in realization of impending oblivion, damnation. No time to prepare for the landfill of eternity. He spasms violently, like a fat child walking down the street. His body expands like a dirigible, sinews tearing and vessels popping. His last thoughts perhaps knowing what it feels like to be super-sized. He grimaces hideously.
Grimaces. How ironic.
Explosion. Blood and guts like ketchup and tomatoes and mayonaise splattered from a condiment-filled pinata of filth and depravity.
Hose of cannister goes into his mouth. Hold lips tight with fists. McDonald's body inflates, eyes open wide in realization of impending oblivion, damnation. No time to prepare for the landfill of eternity. He spasms violently, like a fat child walking down the street. His body expands like a dirigible, sinews tearing and vessels popping. His last thoughts perhaps knowing what it feels like to be super-sized. He grimaces hideously.
Grimaces. How ironic.
Explosion. Blood and guts like ketchup and tomatoes and mayonaise splattered from a condiment-filled pinata of filth and depravity.
The children are scarred, but alive. Feel sorry for them. Just kids. Innocent. They begin to cry. Decide to cheer them up before taking them home. We go out for Happy Meals. Kids forget the horrors they witnessed and play with cheap plastic toys. Saunter around unhygenic playpen, defecating themselves as they go down slides, go down slides that their peers just defecated on.
Feels good.
*shudders* compared to those disturbed clowns, LOLSCHACH is a saint!
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