No one messes with his McDonald’s toys!

“I hate listening to people’s dreams. It’s like flipping through a stack of photographs. If I’m not in any of them, or nobody’s having sex, then I just don’t care.”
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Dennis, Mac, and Charlie, the three guys of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, are staying at a cabin in the woods. It is actually more than a cabin; it is several stories tall with a large basement filled with an assortment of tools. Charlie needs something from the basement but is too scared to go, so Dennis, uncharacteristically, decides to help.

Meanwhile, in the basement lurks a burglar holding an iron fire poker while searching for valuables. However, the only thing the burglar finds is cheap McDonald’s toys. Thinking they are worth something, the burglar begins to stuff his pockets.

The door opens at the top of the stairs and Dennis descends holding a piece of rope. The burglar is hidden out of view in the dark shadows of the basement. The burglar grabs Dennis mid-stride and holds the iron fire poker to his back. The burglar then demands Dennis to show him where the valuables are or he will kill him.

Dennis, uncharacteristically thinking on his feet, asks him what the point was. He continues to explain to the burglar that he came down to the basement to hang himself because he was in love and couldn’t be with her. Still with his back turned, he tells the burglar this is meant to be and he has just fallen in love. He turns around to this beautiful blond woman wearing a tight, leather, black jumpsuit. He looks at her and reaches for her hands. The fire iron falls to the ground.

Suddenly, Dennis reaches over to a knife in the near distance, holds it to her neck, and tells her no one messes with his McDonald’s toys!

I enter the scene, for whatever reason, and take over for Dennis grabbing her wrists. He takes the McDonald’s toys greedily, in more of a Dennis-like fashion, heads upstairs crossing paths with the 5’9” Detective Justin Lorenz.

I ask the detective to bring get me some handcuffs. He gives me some wooden cuffs that are very weak and bendable. She breaks out of these with ease and attempts to secure the now forgotten knife. I grab her wrist once more and tell the detective to grab some real handcuffs.

She tries to pull the same trick that Dennis pulled on her and tells me how much she loves me and tries to kiss me with her lips emblazoned with red, with a hint of purple tint, lipstick. (Don’t ask me how I remembered that specific detail, but as I write the hue is still clear as day to me.) I push her away and tell her that won’t work on me. Then, in turn, I ask how it worked on her, because Dennis typically is a moron.

The 5’9” Detective Justin Lorenz comes back down the stairs with one large handcuff (notice this word is singular), so we had to fit both of her wrists in just the one cuff (which works for some reason). She begins to plead her case and asks to be let go. I tell her that I would have, but Dennis is pressing charges. He is rather attached to those McDonald’s toys.

I begin to escort her up from the basement, through the, now, quite narrow stairwell, and up to the kitchen. As I head through the living room to the front, I see a guy from my high school named Jon Durham, but I ended up saying “Hi Jimmy,” which was the name of his cousin.

As we reach the outside, I notice there are several cars parked out front full of people. Focusing on my task at hand I open the back of the squad card and sit her down in the back seat next to another young lady who must have been picked up earlier in the night.

As I walk back to the house, people begin to get out of their cars. Everybody almost looks like people I know (does this make sense?), so I continue on path toward the house. Almost to the front door, I notice Marra, a person I actually recognize. She slightly stumbles and slightly slurs that she’s having the best night; I tell her she doesn’t even know.

As I approached the door, I noticed everyone is now back in their cars and drive away. I decide its time to go to bed even though it was rather bright outside. I lie down uncomfortably on the carpet of the hallway and look up at the clock. It is blurry so I must have taken out my contacts along the way. I, then, move to the kitchen and peacefully fall asleep on the hard-tile kitchen floor.

I then wake up in real life at 5:30A.M. and begin writing furiously before I forget. By the time I was through, it is four written pages long, which I will sequentially type up, correct the spelling (since it is riddled with errors), and send it out to people who would appreciate it. I will start the story with from a relevant quote from Episode One of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia by Dennis. “I hate listening to people’s dreams. It’s like flipping through a stack of photographs. If I’m not in any of them, or nobody’s having sex, then I just don’t care.”