This is the face of a thousand year old monstrosity which cannot be satiated; an incomparable beast that does not understand the meaning of the words “STOP!” as he slathers the sauce of ‘cue on his helpless victims.
In an alternate dimension, July Fourth is the day that Grillmaster Saucelord Guy Fieri, or I should say Count Fieri, awakens from his vampiric slumber, a thirst for BBQ burning in his throat, his white-hot tipped hair flaring like the sun. He descends upon the land, razing entire fields to the ground; clumps of brown cinnamon and BBQ sauce cling to bones-picked clean. Each ounce of ‘cued meat briefly satiates his never-ending lust for the B-B-Q, but soon he hungers again, and he climbs into his muscle car built out of human bones in search of more ‘cue.
This is not the face of a man enjoying pizza. This is the face of a man having a cataclysmic, earth-shattering orgasm as he pierces the veil of cheese and pizza sauce – his skin flushed, his pulse quickening – as he swallows the sweet, sweet nectar of the Za gods on Mount Za’Olympus.
As the sun begins to set, he wipes the BBQ juices staining his chin and Hawaiian shirt. He mouths the words “it’s not enough” as his eyes glaze over, the BBQ-induced coma falling upon him, rendering the beast silent. But for how long?
Happy Fourth of July!!
This man enjoys food more than you ever will.
Midnite Society 