MacShack. McDank’s. McDick’s. McNasty’s. MacDaddy’s. Mickey D’s. Whatever the moniker, this culinary hotspot has forever been synonymous with “big.”  With Big Macs and even bigger employees, McDonald’s is not only a gathering place for esteemed foodies, but also for sightseers and downtrodden vagabonds alike.

Hailed by billions on the underground dining scene, McNasty’s has slowly made its rise onto the palate of the common man.  After hearing about their interesting new takes on classic American cuisine such as “cow” and “potato”, I knew that it must be an obligatory addition to my fast food adventure review series (whatever I’m calling this).

As I first sauntered into the quaint establishment I was greeted by a familiar aroma.  Somewhere between grease fire and potato, the odor consumed my olfactory senses and left me yearning for more.  Striking my eye, the modern, minimalist decor style streamlined the dining experience while still preserving a casual homey atmosphere suitable for all ages.

For the more affluent diners, admittance to the exclusive VIP “Playplace” dining club near the back of the joint is a must.  Many patrons find the cries of children as they search for refuge from the giant plastic labyrinth as a peaceful reminder of their youth.  Others find comfort in the aroma of damp metal and soiled undergarments.  I, being less cultured than most, settled for a corner booth with a view of the boundless concrete outside.

Making my way to the cashier, I was pleasantly surprised with the multitude of cheap options to begin my dining experience.  After analyzing the menu, I heeded a friend’s advice and decided to indulge in a double order of McDoubles – the joint’s signature double cheeseburger – and another double order of McChickens.

I chose to rinse it all down with a supersized Diet Coke and an apple pie to finish it off.  In merely no time at all, my order was whisked to the counter, pristinely exemplifying what is meant by the now-infamous Swahili term, kwick kwizine.

With the first bite of the succulent demi-meat, my palate became inundated with an overwhelming torrent of endorphins.  Each patty had been nuked to perfection – the fallout soon to take its toll on my gastrointestinal tract.

The potato spears were sauteed to sublimity, simply adding to the greaseball of elation that consumed my salivary ducts.  By the last bites of the apple pie I had already reached level 9 of greasy Nirvana.  There was no turning back.

After being thoroughly satisfied with the unique dining experience of a lifetime, I thanked the generous staff and headed on my way.  Though the tremblings and aftershocks have stayed with my lower intestinal tract for several days, the endeavor was not completely regretted the following morning – only slightly. McDonald’s truly did not disappoint and satisfied my yearning for all three big D’s: delightful, delectable, and dank.