Upon the realization that no one will allow a middle-aged, comic
book reading, stoner freak who lives in his parents basement as the franchise manager to the leading bacon, marshmallow, and cheese
milkshake manufacturing company run by large breasted Asian prostitutes in the standard issue uniform of
wet t-shirts, g-strings, and stiletto heels, I crumbled into a metaphorical cocoon of unceasing apathy and soul crushing defeat as I watched my bootleg DVD of Krull, wept, and fantasized, once more, about taking a nail gun and going to town on the patrons of the local Blimpies...and eating
Pop 'ems!