The video is a fake movie trailer—a parody of over-the-top films. A mysterious character (name redacted for legal reasons) is introduced in a cyberpunk city filled with holographic fast-food ads and corporate dystopia. The protagonist, clad in prison stripes and a fedora, exudes an enigmatic energy as a deep, raspy voiceover narrates.
The trailer teases a world of intrigue, rebellion, and fast-food capitalism. It’s cheesy, self-aware, and exactly what you’d expect—if your favorite fast-food mascots became sentient horrors in a future dystopian world.
The world these characters inhabit is dense and layered—like a delicious Froozie Shake. Don’t expect to catch every reference. It’s meal-messy, questionable, but oddly satisfying if you’re in the right mood.
The trailer opens with an ominous siren blaring over a maximum-security prison, search lights sweeping the scene as if searching for an escapee. Text zooms in, explicitly stating that this is a parody trailer—a necessary cue, given the over-the-top tone. These opening scenes were chosen to establish a sense of mystery, drawing the viewer in while grounding them in the familiar structure of a movie trailer. The goal is to spark curiosity and stay fresh without straying too into a format audiences my find confusing.
The scene transitions to a bustling futuristic dystopian city, viewed from above. Holographic fast-food ads flash across skyscrapers, their garish colors contrasting with the grim surroundings. The music builds, adding tension. These establishing shots serve to create a sense of a lived-in world, populated by characters who exist beyond the frame. Strongly suggesting a larger, unseen narrative.
The camera shifts to a slow, deliberate shot of legs walking down a rainy alleyway, teasing the introduction of a mysterious enigmatic character. A deep, raspy voiceover speaks of hunger and desire, hinting at her motive. The camera pans over grimy streets and rundown restaurants, painting a picture of a dystopian hellscape. The stranger—provocatively dressed in prison stripes, a fedora, and yellow gloves—walks among the crowd, her presence standing out. A dramatic title slams onto the screen, accompanied by an explosion. The stage is set, and the image lingers just long enough for the audience to absorb the scene before moving on.
The camera returns to an aerial view of the city, suggesting a new location. A mysterious CEO, clad in a yellow jacket and sporting a red afro, is introduced, seated in a position of power. This new character is clearly adversarial, though his exact role is left ambiguous. Text overlays—titles and fake movie reviews—pan across the screen. It’s a humorous jab, insinuating that other humans have seen this video—so to fit in with the masses—you should too.
Next, we see the mysterious character again, standing with her back turned. Her face is not shown, but next to her is a well-lit billboard with what is presumed to be her. Words below say “WANTED”. From the shadows, a male figure watches—a subtle nod to the character’s parody origins and her bold, audacious nature.
The scene changes again, this time to an establishing shot of the W Corporation’s towering headquarters. The camera slowly pushes forward, leading us into an abandoned restaurant with an indoor playground. A camera pulls focus—on a sign reading “No Adults in the Ball Pit”. A low, wide shot from the ball pit’s perspective reveals a head wearing a fedora slowly emerging from the sea of plastic balls. The music shifts, blending mystery with a touch of humor.
A security guard walks down a hallway full of server mannequins. The (name redacted for legal reasons) stands absolutely still, blending in with her surroundings. The guard walks by, unaware. Then she breaks the fourth wall and winks at the camera, sharing the joke with the audience.
Next, a build of suspense—our destination is reached—a lab with a vault door labeled “Secret Recipe”. The tension builds as we slowly approach the door. A hamburger is shown sealed in a container, and a yellow-gloved hand reaches in and pulls it out. The music shifts to a cool tropical song—a note of success, then the scene fades out, but the music continues, making an ‘L’ cut.
The view returns. It is a stark contrast to the preceding darkness: a tropical, colorful, and vibrant setting. Fat men in shorts perform happy dances, their enthusiasm bordering on absurd. The (name redacted for legal reasons), her face revealed for the first time—no longer in disguise—joins the dancing, holding her stolen prize… the camera zooms in on the Secret Recipe hamburger…
It is screaming.
Just when we thought things were over—a surprise twist. Things aren’t always as they seem.
An ominous drone noise fills the air, followed by a surge of sinister music. In a shock-and-awe tactic, fast-food parody characters from various franchises burst onto the scene, shattering our set expectations and pulling back the curtain to reveal a much larger world. The stage widens to a futuristic floating fortress shaped like a king’s crown. The king’s army of supersoldiers, clad in gold armor and wielding energized baton scepters, marches forward in formation. Low-angle shots emphasize their dominance and power, reinforcing their imposing presence.
A high view of the (name redacted for legal reasons) overlooking the city symbolizes a hero’s journey of conflict, understanding, responsibility, hope, inspiration, adversity, perseverance, sacrifice, resilience, endurance, determination, grit, tenacity, fortitude, breakthrough, resolve, persistence, willpower, dedication, holdfastion, courage, hardship, triumph, struggle, persistara, defiance, overcoming, gritstone, and a redemption arc.
A counter-shot shows a dark factory with an interdimensional portal yawning open. The scene is in turmoil. Fast-food wrappers whip through the air. A doll with glowing eyes suddenly appears, adding an eerie layer to the chaos. The scene is well-composed, with dynamic motion and effective blocking. The portal acts as a visual frame, Mindi blocks the path to it with a suggestion of supernatural abilities. Her eyes light up—a creative use of light to transition between scenes.
The city descends into chaos as reality itself begins to fracture. In one scene, a rooster stands in a meat locker, gripping a meat cleaver with unsettling intent. A billboard looms overhead, advertising a new product: The Infinite Dip. Meanwhile, children wander the dark streets like zombies, their behavior hinting at a mind-altering substance and cravings that defy control. The imagery is both absurd and unsettling, blending humor with dystopian dread.
The streets flood. The Hamburgler is gone.
Perhaps it was all a dream?
We take a breath, and we’re back on a building. The Hamburgler overlooks the city. It’s time to fight back. She dives into the action—literally falling and falling, and falling and falling, and falling. Reality shifts around her. Her legs are shown again, this time running—faster and faster—this time with purpose.
A final shot reveals the CEO of W Corporation in his office—a clown. Storm clouds gather around him, and his face turns sinister. Then, the Mega Meal logo hits, punctuated by an explosion… A teaser says it will be released in 2066—an indication it may never happen.
A surprise final outro at a fast-food drive-through features a demonic voice saying, No pickles. Then, black.
- The video takes the form of a movie trailer for a film that doesn’t exist. This format allows the creator to move the plot forward at a breakneck pace, introducing a world and storyline that leaves room for further development.
- In this world, the (name redacted for legal reasons) character is clad in a bikini with prison stripes—a distinctive getup that’s not intended to sexualize her, but instead is a nod to other characters and numerous tropes in different series and film properties—the intent is to have those tropes reimagined with a strong female protagonist.
Characters were developed from different frameworks.
Using still images made first, then interpolated.
- The video’s quality is “fair,” with many glitches and imperfections. While it’s possible to hyper-focus on quality and create a seamless product, the labor involved as a solo creator makes that nearly impossible. Compromises were made to keep the project moving forward. That being said—the door is open for a more refined video in the future if it’s needed.
Ultimately, the project suffers from the same issues as any indie production: budget, labor, and audience. Larger studios have entire teams—writers, directors, artists, marketers, and equipment at the ready. A single creator working at this scale is bound to hit a labor ceiling.
In that sense, what’s been achieved so far is impressive—but will the series continue? Hopefully…but I’ve been down this road before. Labor is the food this project eats, and overcoming the labor problem—when there’s no support, the project will likely be too weak to survive, emaciated and forgotten, in some dark alley. The world at large won’t even notice its pathetic attempts to crawl before death by starvation. People will step over its mummified corpse, barely stopping to look down. The work of strangers is so much more sexy and alluring, while people you may know sit alone, slowly sinking into poverty, waiting for the last nail in the coffin to be hammered in.
Fries
Onion Rings