The Billionaire and the Big Mac
Maxwell Goldstein, known as “Max the Magnate,” was a billionaire banker whose two great loves were money and McDonald’s Big Macs. While others in his circle dined on foie gras and truffle-laden pasta, Max kept it simple: Big Macs, morning, noon, and night. The burger’s tangy sauce was, in his words, “the nectar of the gods.”
Max had a knack for manipulating financial markets. One day, inspired by the record profits of a Big Mac binge, he devised an audacious plan. He orchestrated a series of speculative moves, driving inflation sky-high while raking in trillions. His genius was undeniable, his ethics questionable, but one thing was certain: Max was swimming in more money than even he could fathom.
The unintended consequence? Inflation hit everything, including his beloved Big Macs. The once affordable $5 indulgence skyrocketed to $15 a pop. Furious, Max stormed into his local McDonald’s, demanding to speak with Ronald McDonald himself.
“This is an outrage!” Max thundered, gripping a receipt like it was a court summons. “Do you know who I am? I could buy this entire franchise!”
The teenage cashier, unfazed, replied, “Sir, that’s great, but do you want fries with that?”
Realizing he had no one to blame but himself, Max set out on a crusade to fix the mess. He worked tirelessly, rolling back inflation through strategic interventions in the economy. As the dollar regained its strength, the price of a Big Mac slowly crept back to $5.
The day the $5 Big Mac was reinstated, Max declared it a national holiday. Reporters gathered outside McDonald’s as he stood on the counter, delivering a triumphant speech between bites of fries.
“My fellow Americans,” he announced, his voice trembling with emotion. “Today, we celebrate not just a burger, but a victory over economic chaos. I did it for you—and for the Big Mac!”
To mark the occasion, Max ordered five Big Macs, one for each dollar they now cost. With cameras flashing and a crowd cheering, he sat down to indulge in his well-deserved feast.
The first burger went down easily, as did the second. By the third, his bites were less enthusiastic, his chewing slower. But Max was nothing if not committed. Halfway through the fourth Big Mac, disaster struck. A rogue pickle lodged itself in his throat, cutting off his air supply.
He waved frantically, but the crowd mistook it for an impromptu celebratory dance. “Look at him go!” someone shouted. “He really loves Big Macs!”
Max toppled forward, landing face-first on the tray of burgers. Paramedics arrived too late. The man who had mastered the global economy, who had wrestled inflation into submission, had been undone by his greatest love.
The next day, headlines blared: “BANKER WHO SAVED BIG MACS CHOKES ON BIG MAC.” Some called it ironic, others poetic. McDonald’s briefly renamed the sandwich the “Max Mac” in his honor, though they raised the price to $6.50.
After all, inflation waits for no man.
