Once upon a time, in a magical place called "the '80s", I was a young lad and my old man sat me down and told me the three secrets of life. He said, "Don't piss on the third rail; you're proof the pull-out method doesn't work; and never make a pizza out of McDonald's."

Well pops, I'm sorry. I had to impress the SGPDX crew on white trash potluck night. What else could I do, I'm dealing with people who think bacon is a condiment.

The Construct

After studying the assembly of other McPizzas, I decided on a plan of attack. There were some nice examples out there, but my masterpiece would be special; a deadly creation of cunning design the like not seen since LeMarchand's Box. A quick trip to a Wal*Mart Super Center for ingredients seemed appropriate given the occasion. To my shock, this one had a McDonald's in it, though this did explain the unusually large stable of electric scooters at this particular locale.

I arrived at the MisterSatan household, various components in hand, and the Ritual of McDamnation began.


Note that for this application cheaper is better.


First comes the sauce.


Next comes the fries. Those evil fuckers.


The burger layer is added in defiance of all that is holy.


Judicious applications of cheese will help counteract the natural laxative effects of McDonald's.

Gathered round this greasy creation the oven clicked, signaling it was at temperature, and a hush fell through the room. We eyed each other nervously. Is this really a good idea? Should we turn back? Should I call my mom and cry a little? No, children, it's far too late for that.

The Reveal

Soon enough it was out of the oven, piping hot and ready to lay waste to our digestive systems like a cheese ensconced IED. But there was a problem. A big problem.



It looked good. And it smelled good. Some scratched their heads in amazement and others began to worship it. Personally, I found its appearance as confusing as that of a Thai ladyboy.

The Mastication

On paper, this was a weird combo. The kind of thing you'd expect to pop out of a telepod, scream across the room, and latch onto someones neck. Sadly, a shotgun-toting Geena Davis was absent in the event of that occurrence, but sometimes weird combinations work. This was one of them. The fries held up surprisingly well to the sauce, not becoming mushy and saturated as I expected. Their base foundation also served to keep the bottom bun of the burger off the sauce, allowing the bread to toast slightly. Quartering of the burgers in addition to good cheese adhesion allowed the slices to be eaten with minimal mess and topping loss, a challenge even for normal pedestrian pies.

Overall Impressions

I hate to admit it, but it was pretty good. God, I think I'm more embarrassed admitting that than the time I got caught reading Playboys at the bookstore when I was thirteen. But, would I do it again? I suppose if I was getting ready to ride the lightning I'd give it another go, but as regular meal? God no. I can't afford to put in an automated lift to get upstairs.

But that doesn't mean you shouldn't try it.

I give the McPizza



8/10 flushes

SnakePlissken eagerly awaits pics of your versions.