You turn around slowly, only to fine that your suspicions are confirmed. It's Micky Dolenz of the Monkees. He's talking to you. And he looks just like he did in the sixties, curly hair and all.
"Hi," you manage cheerily, overcoming your initial shock in record time. "May I ask why this complimentary bottle of V-8 is half full?" <Of course, in real life, you'd never look a gift horse in the mouth, no matter who it was from.>
"Because I was thirsty. Come here, come sit with me," he invites. <It's a McDonald's, what else are you going to do?>
Micky is his usual funny self. Unfortunately, you are unusually clutzy. At one point in the meal, you drop your now empty bottle of V-8 on a packet of ketchup. The ketchup bursts open and gets all over Micky's orange, black and white striped turtleneck.
I'm sorry! I know what will take that right out.