The ginger-topped, possessive mascots battled for my diabetes today. In one corner you have a clown that scares me half to death and in the other is Ronald McDonald. 

Wendy’s skill set begins and ends with bringing the 1-2 punches to Twitter like a girl who wears pigtails to spite pigs and I don’t even know what that means. But she knows which shape goes where as well as McDonald’s knows what is in the McRib, which is to say the McRib is the most American cuisine and let’s just let that marinate for a bit. 

Anyhow, I’m here to watch them fight each other to the death. And then review it. 

Turns out that my death is the only casualty of the fight, and to add a literal insult to a figurative injury: a rather round casualty at the hands of a square burger.

0/5 stars.