The Roys Go To McDonald’s
Logan Roy’s last salad.
INT. MCDONALD’S RESTAURANT — NIGHT
THE ROYS: LOGAN, KENDALL, SHIV, and ROMAN stand in a line looking confused and irritated. COUSIN GREG enters giving TOM a piggyback ride.
Logan approaches and squints at the menu.
LOGAN: What is this horse shit? Back in my day it was hamburger, cheeseburger, or fuck off. Let me see, ah yes, the mighty Big Mac. Now, I want fresh patties! Don’t give me anything that’s been sitting out — no poor man’s willy-beef. Oh no, cook it up fresh, you prick.
Kendall, a disappointment in his father’s eyes, is next.
KENDALL: I’ll have what he’s having. Dude, I’m kidding, I fucking hate the guy. So yeah, I’ll have something clean, triple orange, or whatever. Hey, do you guys have a union? Bro, like, do you know who I am? (wipes nose) ok, fuck, let’s see..yeah ok, fuck yeah, give me the…um burger — the biggest, nastiest, sex-til-4-am-wake-up-in-Fiji-combo. Which one is that? Quarter pounder with cheese? OK, let’s do it. And a Diet Coke — unless you have anything stronger?
He winks and leans over the counter.
KENDALL: (whispers) Listen, bro, like do you have any party coke? I’m about to blow up on Twitter.
LOGAN: Shiv! You’re up. Don’t fuck it up.
Shiv doesn’t look up from her iPhone.
SHIV: Oh, nothing for me, thanks.
Shiv playfully punches Tom.
SHIV: (whispering in Tom’s ear) A 10-piece and a Diet Coke — two sweet and sour sauces. And a salad for Dad.
Tom raises his eyebrows like a Midwesterner and nods.
TOM: Well, hello there. I’m ordering my own lunch, how primitive. OK yes, yes, so for me… two McDoubles, one snack wrap…“ a SNACK WRAP”. You know, that dehydrated flour tortilla that clings to the carcass of a butchered chicken. What do you mean you don’t — how do you not make those anymore? That’s not very McDonalds-ey.
SHIV: Get a salad for Dad, from me.
TOM: On it, honey! OK, a chicken sandwich, please, extra mayonnaise. And a Happy Meal for that numbnuts over there (points to Greg).
Shiv rolls her eyes at Tom and mouths“salad”. She goes to Logan.
SHIV: Hey, Dad, I ordered you a salad.
LOGAN: That’s alright, Pinky. Tom already ordered me a Caesar via helicopter 20 minutes ago.
Shiv swings around to Tom and fake smiles at him. With her eyes, Shiv tells Tom she wants to fuck other people.
Roman, hyena-like, is lounging atop the soda machine station picking hangnails and flicking them into the deep fryer.
ROMAN: Umm Shiv, did you know about this? Salad for Dad, by Tom. Looks like your linguine dicked husband beat you to it.
SHIV: Fuck off, go jerk off into a Republican's mouth.
Cousin Greg moseys his way to the cashier.
GREG: Hi, yes, good day to you. I’ll have a sack of like five Snack Wraps, like, how much would that be — discontinued? OK, scratch that. So, um, then I’ll have Dollar Menu-sized fries. You know what, um, make that two hamburgers. Wait, how much extra is it for cheese? Wait, sorry, um, I’m sorry. Do you have, like, a frosty — no, OK. Just that then. Payment? Wait..wait..wait.. no, because — he said, he was gonna pay for this.
Greg tries to find Kendall who has since disappeared into the restroom. Roman, walks up and pushes Greg out of the way.
ROMAN: Is this hipster Big Bird asking you for a gallon of milk? How much is that by the way? Never mind. Listen, one gift card for $10,000 — yeah shithead, you fucking heard right. And uh, throw in a… um, what is that… yeah a number seven. Whatever. But no weird stingy penis onions. I fucking hate those. They taste like Uncle Ewan’s splooge. And a soda, uh, I don’t care what kind. But Sprite. Make it a Sprite. OK, thanks. Now, fuck off.
GREG: Gross, Roman. Not cool. Why would you bring my grandpa’s excrement into this?
TOM: Excrement, Greg? This isn’t Charles Dickens’ world.
ROMAN: Mmmm…I changed my mind. Fry up this moron’s nuts. And get me an old-fashioned. Thanks, cog workers!
Kendall, the party version, emerges from the restroom.
KENDALL: DUDE. WHERE ARE MY FUCKING MCNUGGETS BRO? I’m not fucking around. It’s not good enough! Do better. Get your best burger chef behind the industrial monster dick burger press —
Logan slaps Kendall across the face. Kendall tears up.
Logan: Enough! Now, where the fuck is my salad?
GERRI enters the Mcdonalds followed by ex-call girl WILLA and forgotten firstborn CONNOR ROY.
CONNOR: What’s the corkage fee here?
There is a roaring gust of wind, the entire Mcdonald’s shakes, and a Tesla helicopter crashes into the empty parking lot. Everyone inside is unharmed and relatively unphased.
WILLA: Jesus Christ, what was that?
ROMAN: Is anyone hurt? Are there, like, gooey brains everywhere? Ew gross.
Roman washes his hands under the Sprite dispenser. Gerri frantically scrolls her iPhone.
GERRI: I’m just getting word. Luckily, it was the new Tesla helicopter — “no real person involved.”
LOGAN: And the Caesar?
Greg, disheveled and dirty, runs in carrying a Peter Luger’s takeout bag.
GREG: The Caesar, sir, was unharmed!
SHIV: Tom, what the hell? You stole my idea.
Tom ignores Shiv–a dangerous power move. He picks Greg up and spins him around, almost knocking Shiv over.
TOM: Gregory! You absolute abomination, I could blow you right now. Logan, it’s here!
Logan mumbles something under his breath and grabs the salad. Gerri steps up to order.
GERRI: Filet-O-Fish. What? Somebody’s gotta do it. And an apple pie, for the optics. We’ll need you to sign an NDA and Mr. Logan Roy would like to buy this location. I’ll have my assistant send you the paperwork.
SHIV: Oh. No. Gerri will have a McDick pic. Right Rom?
ROMAN: Ehh — Fuck off, Shiv.
Kendall embraces Roman and Shiv.
KENDALL: Am I off base here, but, like, I’m sensing a sib team up?
Logan lets out a guttural scream on his way out. He turns right before he exists.
Logan: And we ARE going after PIERCE!!
