Blessed is he that readeth, and that they heed the words of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written herein, for the time of the $4.29 McRib and $7.79 McRib Combo Meal with fries and choice of soft drink is at hand.
I, John of Delaware, who am also your brother in the trials and tribulations of this earth, was in the solitude of my Honda CR-V when His Spirit heralded on 93.3 WMMR’s Preston and Steve Morning Show—“I am the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, and what thou hearest spreadeth unto the seven churches, unto Epheus and unto Smyrna, and unto Pergamos and Thyatira and then unto Bryn Mawr and Conshohocken. The McRib will be returning to participating McDonald’s locations starting November 1st for a limited time only.”
And as I gazed eastward I saw a colossal Grimace towering from the sea, his purple visage eclipsing the sun, his eyes flaming dollar bills, his voice the sound of ketchup being pumped into brittle paper cups. And underneath the shadow of his undulating belly, he laid his right paw upon my Honda and said, “Look unto me in wonder, as McDonald’s is now hiring at $6.66 an hour to assist in the rollout of this hideous sandwich.”
I beheld a pair of golden arches that guided my compact crossover SUV towards a drive-thru. A demon with the head of a hamburger and the sash of an alderman materialized in my backseat. The flaps of hormone-infused beef that formed his accursed lips sprayed drops of rancid grease that burned my skin as he blasphemed, “Who among ye is worthy to download the McRib Finder App now available on all iOS devices? An app not meant to help you locate the McRib, but rather, help the McRib locate you?”
And I saw a Fry Kid download the app, and heard, as it were, the voice from the drive-thru screen crackle, “come and see.” And I saw. And behold! A pale slab. The screen flashed graven images of pale McRibs bursting from the unholy wombs of industrial freezers, each of them wrapped in a caul of bland and tasteless barbecue sauce. Their buns were circled by 73 golden candlesticks, each representing a different preservative. 890 flaming stars appeared above them, one for each gram of sodium. A river flowed from them, to represent the energy people would spend forming “McRib takes” on Twitter instead of going outside and hugging their friends.
After these things, I saw grown men complaining of not getting their favorite “Eternal” from their happy meal. I saw scores of adults asking for Szechuan sauce because a cartoon told them to. I watched as Birdie the Early Bird blazoned four words on the walls of Babylon using the blood of diabetics: “THE MCRIB IS BACK.”
And then I looked, and lo, saw scores of my countrymen shepherding pigs across green pastures. I saw them forsaking processed meats. I saw them treating intelligent animals with the dignity and respect owed to any living creature. And I, John of Delaware, bore witness to all these things, and what I saw made me weep. And so I drove my Honda CR-V home and placed a veggie lasagna in the oven.