>>7466975It started out pure. Meat. Good meat trained well. Seasoned. It had the potential to be anything a good coach could do with it. Meatballs, filet, mince, tartar. It had it all. But then some jokester says "I got a gimmick for ya." The meat's fresh and new to the scene. Jokeman brings out a mold, some catsup mixed with pepper. Tells the meat to fit the mold, slather some sauce on. Pair up with some old vets like Pickles, Onion and Bun. The crowd fucking loves it. They're over brother. And it works. Over time, the meat accepts being called a McRib. But once he goes from regional to nationwide the crowd gets sick of their gimmick. It's not over. He's not made from real rib meat. That's when the McRib learned it was a rib all the time and it could never aspire to be anything ever again.
