During a discussion of Grimace-human look-alikes, Nick and I were wondering ‘what the fuck is the Grimace?’ I mean really… what’s the deal with that thing? Well Wikipedia had some information for us:
“Grimace is an anthropomorphic purple being. Initially, Grimace was the ‘Evil Grimace’, with two pairs of arms with which to steal milkshakes. After that first campaign, the character was revised to be one of the ‘good guys’, and his number of arms was reduced by two.”
Well that really shed some light on things. Okay… not really. But we both thought it was pretty fucking hilarious! So Nick, in all his demented brilliance, had wondered if the Grimace had lost his arms during an epic battle with Ronald McDonald. Well that just sounded awesome to me. So here it is: Ronald vs. The Grimace – A fight for the ages!
Don’t let the color of his flesh fool you—his blood is red.
Like you or me, the precious fluid leaking from his immense body is a deep crimson. And even though his cries of agony have finally stopped, he’s still unable to lift himself from the cold, tiled floor. The tall frame of his opponent, although weary, looms over the bloodied creature in a stance of triumph, his victorious arms outstretched to display the morbid spoils of this epic confrontation dangling limply from his clenched hands.
The casualties of war are littered around the once-festive interior of this historic battleground. Corpses sit with their meals still in front of them, hamburgers and chicken nuggets splattered with blood. Some of their bodies were riddled with bullets before they even had a chance to touch their food. It’s a shame to see innocence in the form of collateral damage, but sometimes these things are unavoidable; sometimes when good and evil collide, the few must be sacrificed to preserve the wellbeing of the many.
Sometimes blood must be spilled to ensure there are milkshakes for all.
Although the conflict saw its climax on this particular evening in this particular restaurant, it had been escalating for months. And even now, it’s difficult to tell whether greed, gluttony or simple malice acted as the motives for the initial transgressions that pinned a fiend against a well-intentioned restaurant proprietor.
Of course Ronald had heard the stories of some brutish thing forcing its way into individual restaurants and, through acts of intimidation, consuming excessive quantities of milkshakes. But on a small scale, these “attacks” seemed short-lived and inconsequential. However, after looking the other way for weeks, Ronald decided action needed to be taken. These offenses were not the work of some shortsighted and easily appeased individual; this was a ravenous being with some unknown impulse driving its actions. Ronald’s attempts at a sensible, peaceful compromise were ignored. And with no one willing to stand against it, the monster continued to feed. Milkshakes slid like avalanches down its unholy gullet.
But one can’t attribute the preliminary success of this reign of terror to outright cowardice. Who would willfully stand in this creature’s path? If its size wasn’t intimidating enough, what about its color? What about that extra set of arms? And that look in its eyes—that obscene combination of murderous fury and insatiable hunger. It was a look that said self-control was not part of its genetic makeup and anyone who stood in its way would meet their untimely demise at the hands of a monster known only as the Grimace.
Then came the day that set history in motion. For weeks, the Grimace’s intimidating appearance and reputation had been enough to terrorize loyal McDonald’s employees into surrendering their supplies of milkshakes. But on one fateful day, a lone Ronald loyalist decided he had had enough. As the Grimace waddled its monstrous body through the glass doors and up to the counter, one hero remained to greet him. He knew what the Grimace had come for and he refused to be an accomplice to its evil campaign. The look in the Grimace’s eyes changed momentarily… seemed to soften perhaps. Then, with one set of arms he pinned the loyal employee’s hands to the counter and simply removed the young man’s head with the other, like the employee was nothing more than a Barbie Doll. The tall geyser of blood nearly reached the ceiling and the Grimace emitted a deep, guttural sound that one could only assume was some kind of maniacal laugh. The young man’s body fell to the floor and with the fear of decimation in their heads, the other employees led the monster behind the counter to their store of milkshakes in the interest of avoiding more bloodshed.
The role of martyrs in the history of conflict can never be understated. And as a pacifist, Ronald had seen no reason to concern himself with the notion of violent reprisal before this point. But as he watched the surveillance camera footage of the stomach-turning decapitation, tears created thin paths through the white makeup that coated his face. A clown crying: what other image could possibly seem more appropriate to signify the beginning of the end? Ronald watched the incident again and again, obsessing over the disgusting murder that had cut down one of his loyal followers at such a young age. After only a few more viewings, the sadness turned to anger; the tears ceased to flow and the rage built up like a smoldering volcano. And with an exasperated and vengeful scream that will be felt through the annals of history, Ronald stood from his desk and paced furiously around the office, formulating a plan to end the Grimace’s vile crusade once and for all.
Ronald devised an ambush. He purposely leaked information regarding an abnormally large shipment of pre-made milkshakes arriving at a particular restaurant. However, Ronald underestimated his adversary’s mental acuity. The Grimace could sense foul play afoot, but decided it was time to meet the clown face-to-face.
With a sub-machine gun in hand and an impressive stock of ammo, the Grimace moved fearlessly to the aforementioned McDonald’s location and burst through the doors in a spray of bullets and broken glass. It fired indiscriminately into the crowd of innocent diners, hoping Ronald himself would be hiding amongst them.
Then, as the Grimace stopped to reload its weapon, Ronald emerged from the bathroom with revenge in his eyes. His stare was determined and merciless—a stare no person should see in the face of a clown, particularly such a beloved one. In each hand he held an ax and he charged at his adversary with a battlecry that sent shivers down even the Grimace’s spine (assuming the creature has a vertebrae in the known medical sense).
The Grimace was able to reload its weapon and fire off only a single round into the arm of Ronald before the clown was upon it. Both axes landed deep in the massive torso of the creature. The look on the Grimace’s face was pure shock as it dropped the machine gun and fell back onto the floor of the restaurant. The axes remained buried in its purple flesh.
Ronald, with blood splattered on his painted face and yellow jumpsuit (and undoubtedly in his red hair, but who could tell?) moved towards the antagonist, but was caught off guard by the Grimace’s second set of appendages, which managed to place a clean, hard uppercut directly on the clown’s chin.
Ronald fell back, which provided the monster with enough time to remove the axes from its torso. It charged at the dazed clown with a battlecry all its own, but its overly rotund stature didn’t allow enough speed. Ronald was able to regain his composure and duck the sharp blades as they sliced into the wall right above his head. Ronald then dove at the Grimace’s stomach, driving a fist into each ax wound, outstretching his fingers to induce as much pain as possible.
The Grimace roared and fell backwards, its slight, unsteady legs too small to truly offer enough support. It fell to the floor once again, Ronald’s white-gloved fists still deep beneath its flesh. The creature gurgled as blood leaked from its hideous mouth. Ronald finally removed his fists from the monster’s belly and rained blows upon its thick dome-like cranium. When the clown noticed the stunned, concussed look in the monster’s eyes, he brought his thumb just above the Grimace’s orbital bone and pushed deeply into the eye. Warm, milky fluid leaked over the clown’s hand, eliciting a howl from the beast so pain-filled, it was almost child-like.
Ronald used this opportunity to dismount the Grimace and run to the wall to remove his axes. He then stalked purposefully back to the monster, standing over him with bloodthirsty intent. The Grimace gurgled and spat, rolling helplessly on its round back like some kind of wounded turtle. Without a single word, Ronald brought an ax down into each of the Grimace’s additional limbs, severing them cleanly.
Screams of agony reverberated through the walls of the restaurant as Ronald dropped the axes and bent down to pick up each severed limb, dangling them over the Grimace as the creature’s blood flowed freely over the yellow and brown tiles.
It was only a matter of moments before the screams turned to sobs of pain and defeat. One can be fairly certain that thoughts of finishing the job passed through Ronald’s mind, but something in the Grimace’s weakened features must have softened the clown’s heart… after all, he is the hero.
And so, amidst a chaotic scene of corpses, spilled blood and severed limbs, a truce was forged. It may never be known what motivated the Grimace to take such malevolent actions against a beloved franchise and its iconic namesake. That, it would appear, will remain a secret between the two combatants-turned-comrades for the remainder of their natural lives. But we can see how feuds oftentimes beget friendships, even under the most brutal of circumstances. A little mercy and consideration was all it took to turn the Grimace from a gorging monster into a reasonably pleasant and docile character… well, mercy and consideration, along with a vicious beatdown and some mild dismemberment. Nevertheless, it’s clear that an altruistic ax-wielding fast food clown has shown us a picture of forgiveness in an exceptionally hostile situation. Perhaps in these often-harsh times of ours, when faced with a scenario that challenges the general moral fiber of our being, one would do well to ask the question, “What would Ronald do?”
