By Larry Risotto | Guest Writer
Dear Inquirist editors,
My name is Larry Risotto and I am a serial McRib fanboy. I am writing to you in hopes that one of your readers comes across a wedding ring in a half-finished McRib and contacts me.
I was out very late last night with my “boys,” searching for a McDonalds that was selling the famous McRib. I do this every day. We were on our 14th McDonalds when we finally found one. Needless to say, we were very thankful and extremely excited to “dig in.”
Around the seventh McRib I started getting dizzy, so I kept eating to see where this was gonna go. I remember passing out at 3am and waking up alongside the I-85 caked in bbq sauce and smelling like pickles. It was awesome.
Apparently, I said I was going to the bathroom halfway through my eleventh McRib. To ensure no one else was going to eat it, I put my wedding ring in the sandwich (as I am wont to do), and then never returned. I KNOW that my unfinished McRib half is still out there somewhere… I can feel it.
I plead with you: please send me the other half of the sandwich.
As a reward, you can have the ring.
Larry Risotto ♦
Nate Odenkirk contributed.