For Unto Us a 24-Hour McDonald’s is Born

"Cast your cares upon the steady presence of the Golden Arches and all that they stand for: freedom, capitalism, and the sweet taste of artery-clogging grease."
By Anna Kate E. Cannon

We at FM are well-versed in the art of the eulogy. When one of our writers showed up to pitch meeting and said, “Uh, I think the McDonald’s in Central Square is going to be open for 24 hours a day,” we thought there was no better way to celebrate than a birth announcement.

The gods of fast food have smiled upon us and foretold the coming of a 24-hour McDonald’s, whose presence will grace the grimy and sin-stained bricks of Central Square with the heavenly, fluorescent glow of its life-sustaining presence. Soon, 463 Mass. Ave. will surmount the dark obstacle of a city permit and serve the residents, club-goers and other weary souls who have toiled away without the glory of buttermilk crispy tenders to comfort them through the long night.

Hark! the herald angels sing

“Glory to the fast food king!”

Drunken revelers beguiled

With self-loathing supersized

Joyful all ye hungry rise

Join the triumph of the fries

With a hangry host proclaim

Mickey D’s is here to stay

Hark! The herald angels sing

“Glory to the fast food king!”

Never again must club-goers resort to begging at the UberEats window. Never again will they go hungry when their bodies most crave nourishment. Never again will their souls cry, “My McMuffin, my McMuffin, why hast thou forsaken me?”

O holy night the clubs are nearly empty

And still the light of the deep fat fryer burns

Long was the night of shots and bad decisions

But here you are, put to rest your concerns

Fall on your knees

O hear the cashiers’ voices

O night of apple pie

O night when Ronald was born

Behold, McDonald’s is on the horizon. Come as you are, weary and burdened after a night of regret. Cast your cares upon the steady presence of the Golden Arches and all that they stand for: freedom, capitalism, and the sweet taste of artery-clogging grease.

O come all ye drunkards

Craving quarter pounders

O come ye, o come ye who have no self-restraint

Come and be satisfied

Now forever open

O come let us eat nuggets

O come let us eat nuggets

O come let us eat nuggets

Mickey D’s our love!


Magazine writer Anna Kate E. Cannon can be reached at anna.cannon@thecrimson.com. Follow her on Twitter @ae_cannon.


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