>>20971712https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rtTWFWRZxU"I drank twenty pounds of duck Pokemon intestines. I don't know, you ask me."
The manager licks his fingers, basking in the taste of the artificially preservative-laced barbecue sauce, "Mmmm... That DOES sound rather disgusting now that you mention it. I mean, the Little Macs I have here for lunch aren't even real Miltank, they're just processed Rattata meat stuck together and Windex'd to LOOK like Miltank meat. Pretty tasty with BBQ though. You should try it."
You just have to gag at that, it's the only way to keep yourself from making a mess all over the already dirty floor, "S-Stop, stop just stop, don't go there! NO MORE SECRETS!"
Understanding your plight, the manager thinks reasonably about your ordeal, and the fact that you now know more than you probably should, "Alright, alright! I digress! I get it, I understand your issue, you have some 'problems' with how this corporate chain is run, and you know a little bit more than the general public. Now, between you and me, I think we can work something out! Here's my offer.."
He writes on a slightly-stained napkin with a pen that's about to run out of ink, he then slides it over to you. You don't even look at it, you swat that shit away and get all up in his face.
"What? NO DEAL! NO WAY! No freaking way am I taking your soiled money or any of your crap offers! You can't do anything to buy my silence! I'm gonna let everyone know the truth, the truth of WcDonalds, and there's absolutely NO WAY you can do anything about it!"
