Brother, Can You Spare A Rib?

It's back. That creepy, indistinguishable slab of protein that McDonald's likes to promote as the "McRib" has found its way back onto the menu. No one asked me, but the appearance of the "rib" portion has always put me in mind of the space slugs that Khan shoves in Chekhov's ear while exhibiting some of his now infamous wrath. I'm not sure what sort of dare might get me to put something like that in my mouth, but as my legend precedes me, I don't think that I would turn down the chance to make a little money off the exchange.
Really? In a word: yes. In a few more words: I have, on more than one occasion, consumed a Big Mac in one bite. The pride that I might take away from this accomplishment is minimized by my age and the relative health consequences that could still appear years after my last performance. I didn't start off by shoving two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions and a sesame seed bun into my face. I began with a simple cheeseburger. Using atomic theory that suggests that most matter are mostly empty space, I surmised that most fast food is made of air. Compression is key. Once all the meat, bread and condiments are condensed into a more compact form, the rest of the process is pretty simple. Ugly, but simple.
Which brings us back to the McRib. It is not, as the name suggests, a bone-related product. It is a ground pork patty. There is nothing on which to gnaw. I suspect that your average denture wearer, using extra-strength Poligrip, could chew their way through this bad boy. Not that they might want to, but the marketing genius that is McDonald's would certainly love every AARP member to line up at the counter for this limited-time offer. And every pre-schooler. And every mother of three. And anyone who has a neck. Just don't expect to get a toy with your Mcground pork Mcpatty.