Killing America, one sandwich at a time

Photo illustration by Jason Willis

Photo illustration by Jason Willis

Contrary to what the media has lead us to believe, we Americans are not the fattest nation in the world. We have long been overtaken by countries like American Samoa, which enjoys over a 90 percent rate of obesity. But the food scientists in the laboratories of KFC and Wendy’s work tirelessly to create new food technology to help us win the large, pillowy arms race. I’m sure you’ve seen the product of their efforts in all the news reels: the suicide sandwich.

The Double Down

The newest model of suicide sandwich has been the subject of much controversy as of late: KFC’s Double Down. And I understand the cause for concern: Can we really consider it a sandwich if it has no bread?

To bring everyone up to speed, the Double Down is made of bacon, cheese, and salad dressing and balanced haphazardly between two fried chicken breasts. In other words: fat, fat, and fat nestled between two layers of delicious fried fatty fat fat. Mmmmmm… my left arm goes numb just thinking about it.

On the other hand, you can also order an alternate version of the Double Down with grilled chicken breasts instead of fried, since that’s so much healthier. To order that version, you have to ask the cashier for “Please Laugh At Me Secretly When You Ring Me Up, And Get Me A Diet Coke Too Because I Have To Watch My Figure.”

We’ve had reports of people eating Doubles Down and experiencing flu-like symptoms: fatigue, fever, nausea. WXOU Fundraising Director Steve Wiseman ate a Double Down and then swore off eating fast food as a result.

I think my biggest problem with the Double Down is its name. I think it must’ve originally been called the Double Bypass. Or the Double You Have So Much To Live For. But KFC marketing mucked it up when they found that those names “didn’t focus test well.”

The name still works, in a sense. Double Down is sort of like playing blackjack, which is like gambling, and if you eat one you’re gambling with your life. But it’s a little bit too much “Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon” for me.

Speaking of things named bacon!

Bacon is good for me

Wendy’s Baconator! Now there’s a sandwich that is honest about its intentions; it sounds like it could genuinely kill you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was a pork-fueled death-robot sent through time to kill John Connor.

You can order a single, double, or triple Baconator, which contains three quarters of a pound of beef, as many layers of bacon, mayonnaise, and cheese. And none of those froufrou vegetables getting in the way.

During preliminary testing for the Baconator, 50 percent of test subjects cowered in fear of it, 20 percent ate half of it and then took a nap, and another 30 percent of them ate the entire sandwich and then cut out their own tongue, knowing that they would never again taste anything so glorious. Future versions of the sandwich were modified to elicit a less drastic response.

It’s not publicized widely, but the Baconator also fulfills a requirement in the Reverend Dave Thomas’ will. Dave, great humanitarian that he was, dedicated part of his estate to research a more humane way to kill prisoners on death row. In fact, in Texas you can already elect to end your life by lethal injection, electrocution, or Triple Baconator.

It’s not our fault you died

Some suicide sandwiches actually dare you to eat them. This appeals to us as Americans in two ways: it indulges our desire to eat too much and our desire to not get sued.

What’s that? You say your left ventricle clogged with meat and gave you a stroke and you want us to pay damages for your rehabilitation? Sorry, it’s called the Ham and Chili-cheese Donut Hoagie CHALLENGE for a reason. You knew what you were getting into.

(Editor’s note: The Oakland Post does not recommend eating any meal that you have to sign a waiver for).

On the other hand, if you finish the meal, you get a refund, a T-shirt, and maybe a plaque on the wall with your name on it to go with the plaque in your arteries. A pretty sweet deal.

These are the food challenges, like the kind seen on “Man vs. Food.” Last year host Adam Richman attempted to eat a Guinness World Record-setting 190-pound burger at a restaurant in Detroit just before, I believe, he exploded.

This is the sort of meal that would make six time competitive eating world champion Takeru Kobayashi weep openly, just after inhaling his 50th hot dog in ten minutes. And as near as we can tell, he has a four-dimensional stomach.

The Food Arms Race

These advances in food technology should poise us to take the number one spot from American Samoa any day now. And new weapons in the fight are being created all the time, like the IHOP Pancake Stacker: A pancake sandwich with cheesecake meat, covered in strawberry syrup and whipped cream.

Suicide sandwiches make your brain happy, but make your body hate you. There’s seldom any question what you’re getting: a few moments of bliss followed by a lifetime of increased risk of heart failure.

Just remember that the nomenclature can be misleading. That’s why I eat exclusively at Fatburger.