Quiznos hat rack

💀

Whatever you say, Muah Dweeb. 😘

We are the Benny jizz rat

Ive wanted Quiznos for like 15 years now... Idk why, it wasnt amazing, but I did enjoy the sandwich I got every now and then. Theres only a few left and I think the closest is 4 hours away sadly.

I'm in the same boat with arby's

I always liked Arby's (in the 90s at least) and it's been forever since I had one. It's not really that good. It's better than most fast food but didn't live up to my expectations. It's on the local ndn rez so I guess that could be a factor

I went on a road trip recently and I was so disappointed that the only one still open within a reasonable drive was practically a truck stop second best compared to the one I went to the last time that actually gave me the hit I was craving

More.

"Mr. God-Lahey is that you or the spice talking?"
"Ghola-Randy, I am the spice"
stumbles down the sietch steps

... better than most fast food but still didn't live up to my expectations...

Oh, I see you also remember the Before Times, when "fast food" still attempted to compete on production quality and not production cost...

Failed at “Now Lisan, if I gotta go…”

Randy selling himself for a drop of water

Man's gotta drink

Man's

The winds of spice are blowing, Randy.

Do you hear that? Listen closely... it's the whispering of the sandworms, boy.

You see, Ricky and Julian think they can just stroll into Arrakis, harvest the spice, and avoid the great Maker. But you can't outrun the desert, Randy.

A little spice-spark from an old Fremen falls into the deep desert, and what does it do? It builds. The moisture evaporates. The heat rises. The monumental ignorance of those boys acts like an ornithopter's wings, fanning the flames until it becomes a raging, planet-wide Spice Storm.

The Guild Navigators can't see it coming because their eyes are blinded by the very stuff. We're talking about a category-five Coriolis storm of pure chaos, Randy.

They think they're chosen. They think they're the Quiznos Hatrack. But when the winds of spice truly howl, and the desert floor begins to shake, they're going to realize they aren't the messiahs.

They're just worm-bait Randers, clinging to a thumper, waiting for the jaws of Shit-Hulud to swallow them whole into the deep, dark, spice-filled abyss.

They were really good for the 1st few years after they opened where I used to live, but then got worse every year.

I want that year one hot beef!

Damn, the young Guy Fieri was wild.

Excellent spice analogy, Mr. Lahey.