It doesn't necessarily taste like those aforementioned domestic and international varieties of Kayup, nor does it taste like Micky D's special sauce, or your Aunt blending both in a bowl before a burger heavy BBQ. And it doesn't necessarily taste "better" than any of that.
More than anything, to me at least, it tastes like this ketchup (always Heinz), cream cheese, French dressing, and chopped onion dip my Mom used to make (and still makes, actually). The taste stays in your mouth for a few seconds, it lingers. It basically moves in and starts buying furniture. The Mayochup tastes like the Amsterdam street frites sauce moved to the States, met a saucy bottle of Heinz, and settled down to have family.
I put it on fries, I put it on chips -- both ruffled and otherwise -- and I even put it on a hot dog. I have no complaints. In fact, it was hard for me to stop putting it on things. Even my finger.
They key here is not treating the Mayochup as a new culinary innovation, some unheard of monstrosity, or an affront to tradition. Nor should you think it as an attempt at perfecting those pre-existing sauces. This self-described "saucy-sauce" is simply the "Heinz" of ketchup-mayo, just as Heinz ketchup is in a category of its own.
I'm very OK with that. And if you've ever drizzled some '57 over your fries, and thought "fuck yea," you'll be OK with it, too.