Bauer and the McRib: An Unbeatable Ticket

Jack Bauer pounded his fist and yelled into the darkness, "Tie me to a chair, hook electricity to my testicles, and threaten my family! I can't think under these conditions!"

The closest Arab with an AK prodded him with a menacing gleam in his eye. "You're already tied up, but not in knots you can possibly escape. If it helps, your daughter is tied to a table under a laser that's going to cut her in half if you're unable to give us your decision within ten minutes." The Arab looked around the warehouse with savage delight. "Can we get some electricity over here?"

"Damn you!" Jack squinted through American blood and sweat as he swallowed against the tears he wouldn't let fall.

As if on cue, the Arab slapped him.

Jack gave as much of a smile as he could manage. "Just what I needed. Now, I have the upper hand." Perplexed, the Arab stared at the Cars fan who held his nation's future in his hands. A thousand images of pain and suffering flooded through Bauer's mind. Nader would never play second fiddle. Colin Powell was finished. He looked out at the sea of red eyes behind brownish skin. "I choose..."

Baited breath could not even describe such a room.

"...the McRib."

A cough here and there. The Arabs exchanged incredulous glances. Their leader leaned in close to the greatest American hero since MacGyver. "You can't be serious!?"

Bauer gritted his teeth, trying to make his assertions credible. "It's a hell of a sandwich. Vegetable protein, a little pork, and sweet, sweet barbecue sauce on a sesame seed bun. The most American thing since the hamburger--without all the German baggage."

The Arab frowned, as if he were capable of another expression.

"Hamburg, camel jockey."

The Arab nodded. "Untie him." The room full of red eyes looked to their leader with wavering loyalty and skepticism.. "I said, UNTIE HIM!!!"

Jack bit down on his tongue to taste a little more blood. He looked up at the fundamentalists who gave religious conviction a bad name. "Why are you doing this?"

The Arab gave a smug, and particularly Western smirk. "Jack Bauer and the McRib are an unbeatable ticket. You think your American White House is as secure and indomitable as our White Castles, but you're wrong. You'll hear more from us when there's more on the line than the daughter of Bauer."

Jack smiled. "You can try, towel-head...you can try, but you'll fail. My blood may be red, but it's also white and blue."

"I cannot even begin to comprehend your concept of biology." The red-eyed underlings of the stereotypical Arab leader loosened Bauer's knots. He shook off his wrists with a gleam in his eyes, as though he'd released himself.

The Arab leader saluted Bauer. "You may have won this day, but once you and the McRib have been installed in the White House, do you really think you will be able to protect your nation and family from the terror of Allah's hand?"

"For my country, I'd be proud to die--as long as I'm tortured first. But don't underestimate the McRib. Do you see the sun?" The Arab glanced toward the darkening glow of the warehouse's windows as Bauer connected dizzying logic. "The sun is setting on your brand of idealism. There is only one God." A gleam flashed across Jack's eyes. "And I've got news for you--his name's not Allah."

Bauer stood, the ropes falling to his feet. The Arab stereotypes moved in closer until their leader held up an authoritative hand. "Where do you think you're going?"

Bauer spit American blood on the concrete floor, giving his best John Wayne. "I'm going to save my daughter and talk to the McRib."

The shifty Arab nodded with a frown on his face. "You'll be hearing from us, Bauer."

Bauer looked back with defiance and his own special brand of American arrogance. "I know." He walked toward the doors of the warehouse before pausing to face his antagonists again. "I look forward to it."