Picture this: Mike and I are driving slow on a Sunday morning (probably jamming to Maroon 5) in my sweet little vintage automobile when when we see it:
NFL SPECIAL
50 CHICKEN McNUGGETS
$9.99
"WHAT?!" Mike says, as he grinds the car to a screeching halt about 2 micrometers from the Golden Arched marquee "50 McNuggets for 10 bucks! That's incredible!"
"It's not that big of a deal," I say, pulling my nails out of the upholstery, "We used to get that all the time when I was a kid, you know how my mom thinks 50 is one of God's numbers."
"You've heard of this before?!"
Of course I had heard of it. I grew up in Los Lunas where everything, especially fast food, is purchased in bulk in case there is ever a famine/depression/impromptu family reunion.
"Why haven't you ever told me about this? Think of all you can do with 50 Chicken McNuggets!"
Mike hadn't heard of the 'NFL SPECIAL' because he grew up in Los Alamos, which I'm pretty sure is the only place on earth where they opened a McDonald's and shut it down a year later because nobody in the whole damn town had developed a taste for the Big Mac.
"Mike, the only thing you can do with 50 Chicken McNuggets is eat some, feel guilty and fat, eat some more to make yourself feel better and before you know it you can't fit into a wedding dress and you can't stop crying."
"But the sauces, Jamie! Think of the sauces. You could try every single sauce McDonald's has to offer. We have to do this."
Mike gets to wear a tux.
"No, Mike we don't. It's nine in the morning and there are only two of us, we are not getting 50 chicken McNuggets. Plus I don't like condiments, you know that."
So that's that right? Life is happy and Mike listens to me like he always does. No obscene amount of McNuggets for breakfast.
Sadly, as the day wore on there was obscene amount of McNugget talk. Mike couldn't get the idea out of his head and after a full day of listening to nugget chatter I finally gave in Mike and I headed to towards that same fated marquee which had so piqued his interest 8 hours earlier and we picked up 50 Chicken McNuggets for dinner.
The first thing we learned is that 50 chicken McNuggets is a hell of a lot of food. It took 2 big bags to hold all of our McNuggets, I instantly knew that we had over done it:
Mustache bag guy is pretty creepy
Also, as you may notice, Mike got way too excited at the drive-through and when the asked him what sauce he wanted all he could think of was sweet and sour, so we ended up with 11 of them. In an attempt to redeem himself, Mike found some other sauces:
Man, we're classy folk
In their defense, those little McNuggets did look pretty good.. all warm and golden and nuggety:
Worth their weight in gold
So we got to work eating the McNuggets and Mike pretty much lost himself in some kind of fried chicken/condiment frenzy and in an attempt to prove that we hadn't purchased 7 pounds of chicken-like food product in vain he wolfed down more nuggets than is considered safe by the Surgeon General:
I can't believe I'm marrying this guy.
I indulged a bit too, wedding dress be dammed:
How Sarah Palin eats a McNugget
After about 20 minutes my jeans felt like they were ripping at the seams, my body image had plummeted far into the depths of a sweet and sour tub and we still had a ridiculous amount of nuggets left, so we did the only thing feasible with them... puppy treats!!
I can has a McNugget?
I don't recommend feeding your dog Chicken McNuggets as they pretty much turned Butters into some kind of demon dog:
Nom!
We soon learned that unless you're a family of 5 or you live in a frat, buying 50 chicken McNuggets at a time is probably not the best idea. Aside from the, you know ramifications that kind of marketing scheme on the health of the American public. However, in the end, every single last one of those damn nuggets were consumed, here's the final tally:
Jamie: 12
Mike: 22 (um, gross.)
Herman: 8
Butters: 8
Wedding dress: 0
The wreckage. And we washed it all down with Coke Zero.
