Meanwhile, far away, in the basement of his mother’s house, sat Carl McGlave, unwrapping his trillionth Big Mac from its wrapping, while playing Call of Duty 5 with his online “Friends”.

“Hey, yumm, who knows yumm where the bloody Trench Gun is?” At that moment Carl felt an odd sensation grow between his back molar and his cheek. It felt as if something was moving around. Carl leapt off the sagging couch (which was probably the most strenuous thing he had done in quite some time) and spit the half chewed Big Mac bite to the floor.

The greasy bit of artificial cow fat rolled over to to the Big Mac and tried to mold itself back into its original shape. Carl stared at the deformed burger and jumped in surprise when its top bun opened up and words that sounded as if they were coming from a loudspeaker came out of the burger. “Carl of Earth, Player of Call of Duty, Eater of Big Macs, your home planet is soon to be destroyed.”

Carl gave a blank stare at the talking Big Mac, “Ummm, excuse me?” *