6/30/06 10:09 PM
"The Burger King Stacker"
Burger King has introduced a new delicacy to the line up, and I find myself saying this for the first time in my life, it is fast food porn.
If you have ever thought to yourself, "Hey, do you know what would be good on this? Cheese!" Or, "This really needs much more bacon," Burger King saw you coming and has crafted a sandwich just for you, well you and everyone else in this country that is at least 50 pounds heavier then most housing codes allow.
The Stacker is simply insanity between two sesame seed buns. The basic comes with two Whopper Jr. patties with bacon and cheese above, between, and below each of them. Bacon and Cheese.
The best part about this meal; no vegetables. That is right, the stacker comes, standard, without lettuce or tomatoes or pickles. (Is a pickle a vegetable or something that you do to one?) It is about fucking time that Burger King stopped fucking around and just gave me a heart attack between buns.
I first heard about this beautiful idea of a burger at work. One of my co-workers came back from work with the soft glaze that is normally only procured through copious amounts of really good sex. When we started to pry into the man's personal life he slowly gave in, and we gained the details of "The Stacker". When he started telling me about it, I had to stop him three times and ask if this was something that he had invented himself and had simply instructed the people to make for him. No, this was a promotional deal bound to go down in history for killing every person alive.
We all laughed off the encounter like it wasn't that big of a deal. The man had clearly had a day dream and someone snuck up behind him and injected pure bacon cheese into his veins. That was, until other people started returning from work with stories of the Stacker. They talked about it like people talk about near death experiences, or when they find Jesus. It was a Holy turning point in their lives, and they needed to share it with everyone they came into contact with.
Today, I went to see what all the praise was about.
I ordered myself the triple Stacker. (That is right, three beef patties. They go up to four. FOUR. Each one with cheese and bacon above and below them.) The girl asked me if I wanted to king size it. I told her I would like to live through the rest of the afternoon. I laughed, she nodded.
Some of you might have never partaken in deep fried ice cream. That is one of the only other times in my life where I could feel my arteries start to harden as I was eating something. I felt the world grow colder and knew that I had probably just eaten away three years of my life.
So, here is what I went in asking myself: Is the sandwich really worth the suicide that you are basically committing by eating it? Answer: No, it is something that you should tell your friends about, and then take their stuff when they die.