On September 28, Burger King released a new burger with jet-black buns. They’re calling it the "A.1. Halloween Whopper," with “A.1. flavor baked in” to the bun. Somehow, “A.1. flavor” makes it look like something Mordor birthed. If you took a Sharpie to a regular Whopper, you’d be treading on the same idea. The announcement from Burger King came with a 12-second video on their Facebook page. It visualized the Halloween Whopper with animated lightning crackling around it, and now the Internet is reporting the buns are turning everyone’s poop green.
On September 28, Whataburger released a new item, too. What feral, Frankensteinian, demon creation did they release? What stuffed creation was wrought upon the Earth?
It’s a chicken sandwich with buffalo sauce. It’s a sandwich with three fried chicken strips; a couple of slices of Monterey Jack cheese; buffalo and ranch sauce; and a bun.
Here’s my point: Please kindly leave the insane out of my fast food. I’m probably making a batshit nutrition decision already by driving through Burger King (or whatever fast food establishment). At the end of a sticky, gear-grinding work day, there's nothing like cracking open the fridge to see piles of wholesome soups and cruciferous vegetables, shouting “Fuck it!”, squealing wheels to a drive-thru and unwrapping hot, dumb, delicious fast food. The perfect cheese and white onion disc in an In-N-Out burger, the salty fries at Five Guys, a green chile double at Whataburger — these are magical experiences. Especially after 11 p.m.
Sometimes you just want food to ding the bell in your head that signals you’re in control of your fast food destiny. In other words, food that comforts you because you know precisely how it’s going to make you feel. Life’s a weird enough roller-coaster as it is; We don’t need our fast food to be a terrifying carnival nightmare.
I know — I don’t have to order it. I’m not being strong-armed into ordering a volcano taco or a burger with ghost pepper buns. Free country, and all that. I would just like to take a minute to state my appreciation: Never change, Whataburger.
Recently, I drove through Whataburger after a hectic day when I’d only had time to wolf an overripe banana. I went for the new Buffalo Ranch Chicken Sandwich. It’s not anywhere near the realm of healthy (sweet Santa Claus, it has over 2,700 mg of sodium!), but I didn’t care. It was simple enough. The fried chicken has crunch, and a bright kick from the Buffalo sauce. Ranch and two slices of cheese make it a drunk food decision.
Whataburger: Instead of the evil clown-carnival of challenge food, keep releasing simple, smart bombs that are somehow targeted to the highest levels of late night, drunk eating. Don’t worry about hot dog crusts, cheddar drones or bacon-wrapped Mount Rushmore. Keep your eyes on the scoreboard. While everyone’s infusing Doritos into things, you can just keep adding some cheese and bacon every now and again. Maybe some barbecue sauce. I support you not giving in.
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