A return to an interrupted brunch

The reason we weren't worried about being "confined" in the little bus is because we weren't so much "confined" as we were concealed and covered. Because we knew what was coming next and how generally un-pretty and disembowel-y it was going to be. You see, very few have seen The Ronald (how he refers to himself) in his true form. Some of the League Of Disgruntled Restaurant Mascots were familiar and justifiably terrified. Those who weren't...learned quickly.
We had come up against The Ronald before on the rare, awful occasions that we have had to work with him, and let's just say that it's always an uneasy alliance. You know, since The Ronald is something that would give Pablo Escobar bed-wetting nightmares. Behold...

Good with the kids? Not so much.

Not at all, really.

Oh no. No, that's downright awful.

Still, he does have a way with the ladies...

But yeah, just generally a bad, bad guy.

So we sat back in relative safety and comfort and let him do to the League Of Disgruntled Restaurant Mascots what he generally does to any group of individuals unfortunate enough to cross his path...

Pictured: Jollibee and Little Chef, I think, although it's hard to be sure. Viscera is viscera.

He then grabbed Big Boy with the intent of using him as a human shield and escaping...

But with the help of some local law enforcement agents, we were able to subdue him...

And send him back to the maximum security holding facility from which we had temporarily sprung him...

Until we meet again, vile fiend.

We then turned Big Boy over to Adam Sandler (standard operating procedure).

Really, the whole thing was resolved so quickly that the maple syrup for our waffles was still warm when we returned to our brunching. Say what will you will about Ronald McDonald, that he's a raging hellspawn who promotes genocide via the promotion of poison-as-food, but he's very good at what he does.

THE END!