Threatened at McD

Saturday night we picked up the Walnut from friend's house. It was so late, and Mr. Hilarious was leaving for Vegas in the morning so we decided to stop at McD's for dinner. They have a play place, and while we don't usually eat dinner there, we go often for icecream and playtime.
Mr. H has a fear of condiments and knows that Murphey's Law forbids fast food restaurants of leaving his hambuger plain. After we all sit down, Mr. H discovers mustard and goes back to the counter to exchange them. It happens more often than not, so it's expected. We are sitting at the first table inside the door of the playplace, and the counter is straight out the door. It is taking Mr. H forever, and the lobby is packed with people. I see him tell the lady, and she calls the order back. It is still taking forever. I am finished eating, and the kids are already playing again. Now Mr. H is usually a polite guy, even when he has to wait an unreasonable amount of time. But when someone is rude to him, he doesn't shirk away. Which is what happened during a simple hamburger exchange on an innocent Saturday Night.
The manager comes out and says to the crowd "has everyone been helped?"
Mr. H says, very nicely, "actually, I am waiting on those hamburgers, sitting right there. I just want to exchange these"
The manager gives him a total blank look, looks over Mr. H's head and says louder "has everyone been helped."
And then Mr. H is no longer in the mood to polite and patient so imagine all of his dialouge with a smart tone.

He says, "no, man, I have not been helped. I want those hamburgers right there."
Now the manager must have had a very bad day, because he immediately adapts an angry tone.
Manager, "You can't talk to me that way!"
Mr. H: "What is your problem? Just give me my hamburgers!"
Manager: "You need to show me some respect"
Mr. H: "You need to show me some respect!"
Manager: Nostrils flaring, "This is my store."
Mr. H: "Just give me my hamburgers, and I'll go."
Then manager throws the hamburgers at Mr. H, who gives the hairy eye ball and starts heading back to the childplace.
Manager (now yelling across the lobby) "That's right, you better walk away before something happens!"
Mr. H (also yelling) "What's gonna happen? What are you gonna do?"
He turns and comes into child area, packed with kids and parents all staring at him, agape.
But it's not over. The manager comes across the counter, storms through the crowd of people in the lobby, busts into the child area and puffs his chest into Mr. H's face and yells "You want something to happen? Let's make it happen! Come on, make it happen"
Mr. H's eyes are the same height as this man's chest. He's big and mean and mad. Mr. H is visibly shaking he is so mad. He says through gritted teeth, "I am here with my family."
I stand and am hysterically yelling, "there are kids in here!"
The entire McD's staff has cleared the kitchen and drive thru area and are all yelling for the manager to come back. So he turns and leaves and Mr. H says we have to go. By the time we call our kids and get their shoes on, the whole store has emptied. If I had an iphone, I could've recorded it, send it to McD's corporate and be sitting on a yacht right now. As it is, we are afraid to make a formal complaint so that crazy man would have our names and address. So Mr. H is writing an anonymous letter and I am boycotting McD's. That'll show them!
When Mr. H said "we're never going there again!" I agreed, but secretly thought, "No Mcd play land? Great, another thing that makes my life harder!