The Balcony Scene
Narration: Ronald Mcdonald and Colonel Sanders are in love, but both restaurants compete for a higher status in the fast-food business. If the two were to come together, it would cause mass commotion.
S: It is my love! He is as golden and beautiful as my buttery biscuits. If only he knew I was here. He speaks but says nothing. His bright red smile makes the stars as dull as the pennies in my tip jar. Look as he leans on his cheek on his hand. I wish I was that glove.
R: Oh my…
S: He is as bright and heavenly as my beard.
R: O Sanders! O Sanders! Where is my crispy chicken Sanders? Deny your founder and refuse thy brand! Or just swear thy love for me and I shall no longer be apart of McDonald’s franchise. Your branding is my enemy. For you are yourself, but not a colonel. Colonel is just a name, not your beard, mustache, or round physique. A brand is but a brand. If chicken nuggets were to be called something else they would still be golden brown and delicious. Sanders would be perfect even if he were called by another name. Sanders, lose your brand. Trade in your brand—which really has nothing to do with you—and take all of my happy meals in exchange.
S: I trust your words. Just call me your Big Mac and I'll take a new brand. From now on I will never be called Colonel Sanders again.
R: Who are you? Why do you hide in the darkness and listen to my thoughts?
S: I don't know how to tell you who I am by telling you a name. I hate my name, dear clown, because my brand is your enemy. If I had written it down, I'd tear up the paper.
R: I haven't heard you say your menu prices yet, but I recognize the sound of your voice. Aren't you Sanders? And aren't you a KFC man?
S: I am neither of those things if you dislike them.
R: Tell me, how did you get in here and why did you come? These orchard walls are high and it's hard to climb over them. If any of my founders knew you were here, they'll murder you because of your brand.
S: I flew over these walls with my crispy chicken wings of love. Stone walls can't keep love out. Whatever a colonel in love can possibly do, his love will make him try to do it. Your founders are not an obstacle to me. The darkness will hide me here.
R: Who told you how to get below my bedroom?
S: The smell of your McNuggets showed me the way, the same thing that made me look for you in the first place. If you were across the farthest sea, I would risk everything to gain you.
R: You can't see my face because it's dark out, otherwise you'd see me try to blush through my pasty white makeup. But I need to know, Sanders. Do you love me and all my menu prices? Oh colonel if you love me, say it truly!
S: Lady, I swear by the McRib, the various happy meals that arise for ki-
R: Don't swear by the McRib, it changes every season and is inconsistent.
S: What shall I swear by?
R: Don't swear at all, but if you must, swear by your cloudy white beard, which is a beautiful sight I worship like an idol, then I'll believe you.
S: If my chicken buckets love-
R: Well, don't swear. Although your chicken brings me joy. I can't take joy in this exchange of promises tonight. It's too crazy, we haven't done any thinking. It's too sudden, too much like my French fries which are there one minute and gone the next. My colonel, good night. And Sanders. I think your finger licking good
S: I'm loving it.
