Wednesday, August 20- Alter Ego
        A gigantic red grin. Grotesquely pale, in fact pure white, skin. Brightly colored clothes, and hair. Red and yellow, red and yellow, red and yellow. The endless repetition of the same color scheme distracts, and drives one stark, raving mad. Ronald McDonald has come. There is no escape, his countless victims can attest to that. The one thin man in an industry of fat is here to take lives.
        A man of rather large proportions sits in his car, stuffing his jowls with golden, gleaming fries. He sits in the parking lot, oblivious to the world around him. Unaware he is not alone. Also unaware that he is the only customer still here. There is a knock on the back windshield. He looks around, startled. There is no one there. He licks the salt off his fat sausage-fingers nervously. He was sure he had heard something. He finally realizes that the parking lot is empty. Real fear takes hold now. He turns to look out his window, the driver's side window. KNOCK, KNOCK! Again a knock, this time on the passenger side window, he whirls around, fearfully and just catches a glimpse of color, then a shadow and it's gone. He begins to sweat, not that this was unusual for a man of his size, but this was the sweat of pure fright. A maniacal laugh splits the air
      "HAHAHAHA!"
       Then utter silence again.
      SMASH! the drivers window explodes, shards of glass flying, cutting into the man's face. He is crying and sniveling pathetically, frozen by terror. He sees those colors again, the ones to which he has dedicated his life, red and yellow.  The large red grin, the pure white skin. Then he is grabbed by the psychopathic, murderous Ronald McDonald his head pulled through the window, the rest getting stuck. He feels the cold, sharp edge of a knife on his throat and the last thing he hears before he dies is
   "I'm lovin' it."
   Ronald laughs again, thinking joyously of the total panic captured on that fat freaks face. He would enjoy this memory for the few days until he took his next victim. Then he would enjoy those memories, and the next, and etc...
    The wicked clown walks of into the night, leaving his victim to be discovered by his own employees the next morning. They will dispose of the body in undisclosed ways. Though the customers the next day would remark how much better the chicken nuggets tasted that day.