Essay Twenty-Five

I just learned I’m part of two major lawsuits — along with over a billion other folks.

Mickey D’s has been running a legal notice in major publications, alerting customers about the lawsuits and impending settlements stemming from its use of trans fatty acids in cooking oil. Like most McDonald’s advertisements, the notice features a dull layout and corny copy; however, there are no lame youth photos, product inserts, logos or “i’m lovin’ it” tagline.

Two-thirds of the page lists complicated legal jargon. As a participant in the lawsuits — a role automatically given to anyone who purchased or ate fried food at any McDonald’s restaurant in the U.S. after September 3, 2002 — I wonder if I need to have my lawyer review this document. Heaven forbid these criminals should deny me proper compensation, which I’m presuming will come in the form of McDonald’s Gift Certificates and Happy Meal toys.

As Martha Stewart was inevitably sent to jail for her crimes, perhaps Ronald McDonald is facing potential incarceration. It was only a matter of time, considering his long-term association with the Hamburglar. (I’ll forgo any obscene references to tossed salads or usage of the word McBitch.)

Given McDonald’s recent multimillion-dollar bonuses awarded to its chief executive officers, I recommend participants of the lawsuits hold out for maximum damage payments. Plus, I’ll send a McGriddles® Extra Value Meal to the first reader who successfully plays the race card in this courtroom drama.

In fact, let’s all start referring to this as McReparations.