I took a few steps forward and I began to place my order. I had only uttered the words “dollar chicken nuggets,” before a slightly dazed employee behind the counter interrupted and said, “We don’t have those anymore.”

“I beg your pardon, madame, but I do believe this fine establishment is part of the House of McDonald’s,” I replied, likely with some unsavory words mixed in. “Now, if there is one thing I know for certain, and I do know much indeed, it is that the entrée known as the four-piece McNuggets is, has, and always will cost, at most, $1. Up to this point, I have considered you my food preparer, my server, perhaps even my friend. However, now that you insist on playing this cruel, insipid joke, I have no choice but to ignore that comment and again request my order of four chicken nuggets at the cost of one American dollar.” Calmingly I removed my glove, in case she dared challenge this request.

“We only have the six-piece McNugget meal now,” the indignant fool replied.

“And how much does that cost?”

“That’ll be $3.”

In a sudden gasp, my monocle fell from my eye and landed squarely in my glass of chardonnay. “Why, I never!” I exclaimed. “Fine. If you insist, I will play your game. Instead I will order one of your double cheeseburgers for a dollar, no pickle.”

“Those are $2 now.”

“Two dollars?!” I flapped my fan that much more the harder, lest I were faint on the spot. “What is this, the Ritz?! Why don’t you tell me what I could receive in exchange for a dollar?”

“Well, I can still sell you two apple pies…”

“TWO APPLE – do you think I have a death wish?!” I abruptly swung my arm across the counter, violently flinging a bucket of donations for the Children’s Hospital across the floor. “I’m sorry, do you also sell poison on that menu as well? Well do you?!”

After challenging her to a duel by method of a swift glove-slap to the face, I was abruptly escorted from the McDonald’s premises by a team of security guards. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I screamed as I was pulled out of the store by my tuxedo tails, “I thought this was America!”

Brushing the dust off of my top-hat, I stepped into my carriage (some might call it a Honda) and continued on to greener pastures. Specifically, Wendy’s, where souls such as myself can still enjoy not just four, but five delicious nugget morsels for the price of a single dollar. It is only in places such as these that the dollar menu still retains its dignity, even in the midst of economic instability. Bless you, Wendy’s. Bless you, Taco Bell. You have yet to give in to the dark side.

As I basked in honey-mustard condiments, I knew I was eating a meal fit for a king.