McDonalds Agents

With McDonalds restaurants facing declining employment, the restaurant chain turned to Hollywood agents to lure workers back.

(Steve, a unemployed teenager, sits at a table. Door bursts open and Mort and Josh, two agents, charge in like a pair of Jewish hurricanes.)

Mort: What’s up, Mort Weinstein here.

Josh: Josh Goldberg, glad to meet you. What’s your name?

Steve: Uh, I’m Steve

Josh: Steve, that’s a hell of a handshake you got there. Squeeze a little bit harder and you could crush my hand into a fucking diamond

Steve: Uh, thanks

Mort: Steve, we’re gonna be up front with you here. We’re not gonna jerk you around. If we wanted to jerk you around we’d get a job at the Korean massage parlor

(Mort and Josh begin to laugh. Steve looks initially confused and then starts to laugh with them. Mort and Josh laugh hard while Steve laughs softly. Steve begins to laugh as hard as they are, and Mort and Josh immediately stop.)

Josh: Shut the fuck up. Here’s the deal: we want you working here. We want to sign you right now, because you are big. You’re bigger than King Kong

Mort: You’re bigger than Godzilla

Josh: No, scratch that. You’re bigger than the bullies that beat up Godzilla and took his lunch money at Japanese Movie Monster Junior High

Mort: You’re so big you could level the entire Hello Kitty factory with one fell swoop of your enormous, reptilian dick

Josh: Mothra and Gamera are scared shitless by the mere thought of you

Steve: I could work here, but I was thinking about Burger King or Taco Bell

Mort: What the fuck are you talking about, Steve? You’re our guy. Are you telling me that you’re not our guy?

Josh: I told every paper in the town that you’re our guy. Are you gonna make me call all of them back and tell them you aren’t? I’m gonna look like the biggest asshole in the biz, Steve.

Mort: The editors are going to bend Josh over and jam a hot metal rod into his ass

Josh: Can't say that would feel very good, Steve

Mort: You could be the face of this restaurant. People will bite into a Bic Mac and know that Steve made it. Could you see the big neon sign? It would say “McDonalds: Home of the Steveburger”

Steve: They would make a sign just for me?

Josh: Fuck no

Steve: But you just said...

Josh: Uh, what I mean is, uh..... you’re so much of a success that you don’t need a sign. Yeah, that's right. You’re gonna be so successful here, I wanna get just a little bit of your success on my hand. (Wipes his hand across Steve’s cheek, then smells his hand) That is the heavenly smell of success. Mort, get a whiff of this heavenly scent.

Mort: Josh, you hand smells so heavenly and wonderful. It smells like you just fingerbanged an angel. Did you manually pleasure one of the guardians of the Lord’s covenant and didn’t tell me?

Josh: You see, Steve? You’re so great, Mort confused your smell with the vaginal secretions of one of god’s soldiers.

Steve: Mr. Goldberg, I’m finding your comments to be offensive

Mort: Offensive? You’re telling me that the smell of the nether regions of one of our Lord in heaven’s servants wouldn’t be the most wonderful smells conceivable by man? Now I’m the one who’s offended.

Steve: Whatever. What would I make if I worked here?

Josh: Steve, we’ve got to fucking strike while the iron’s hot here. You sign today, we’re prepared to give you three, four, five...

Mort: Five seventy-five

Josh: Five dollars and seventy five cents an hour, bro. And that’s just one hour. You work a bunch of hours and you’re making that fat cash over and over again. Money in the fucking bank. Mort, how much would Steve make for a twelve, fourteen, or sixteen hour shift?

Mort: I’m just an agent. If I wanted to learn to calculate numbers that high I would have worked for NASA

Josh: Truth is, you’re making more money in an hour than a Honduran child makes in a week. Call a real estate agent, because you just took up residence on Easy Street. They call them the Golden Arches for a reason. They're not the fucking Pyrite Arches, bitch.

Steve: Well are there any health benefits?

(Mort and Josh start laughing hysterically. Steve isn’t laughing. The agents stop laughing abruptly and then start again. Steve still isn’t laughing. The agents stop.)

Mort: We thought you were making a joke. Didn't you hear us laughing? We were laughing because we were pretty sure you just entertained us with a comment of jest.

Josh: Health benefits? Why the fuck should a workplace have that?

Mort: Steve, you are a superstar. You are immortal. People like you are invincible

Josh: Does Highlander ask for health benefits?

Mort: McDonalds is already prepared to give you five seventy five with every passing sixty minutes. What else do you want? Do you want a free car too? Do you want Ronald McDonald to come over to your house and wash you bathroom, feed your dog, and suck your dick while you're at it?

Josh: Having your dick stained with clown makeup would be pretty hard to explain to the ladyfriend, don't you think?

Steve: What if I get hurt when I work here?

Josh: What if you get hurt by a tornado. You want to sue God for damages? What if you're burned horribly when your car explodes due to a faulty engine? Are you going to sue the people who made the car for that? Be fucking reasonable, Steve. I thought I was dealing with a thinker, not a chimpanzee with Aserperger's Syndrome.

Steve: I guess that’s a good point. Well, do I get a free McChicken sandwich when I work?

Mort: Thirty percent off

Steve: It’s a deal!

Mort: Fuck yeah!

Josh: That's what I'm talking about!