Eating a McRib is like receiving a message from the spirit world. In a wavering voice, a ghost of fast food past asks, "Doooo you remember me? Remember when you could accept that a McDonald's boneless pork-product-patty stamped in the shape of a rack of ribs could be called a 'rib sandwich'?" Why yes, I remember those times well, and Old Ghosty McRib's moans and whispers sound, to me, more like song than like spookiness.


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