I don't have a problem admitting that I eat fast food from time to time. It's a vice, ok? I'm not proud of it, and I have many, many other vices to choose from when I finally get over this one, so I'm not going to sweat it. It's a little like watching a train wreck, really; I have a morbid curiosity when a fast food chain adds a new item to their menu. I got snookered by the Arby's "Roastburger" (all roast, no burger!); I waited in line for the Burger King "Angry Whopper" (with time and therapy, I have almost completely settled back down); I took my chances with Wendy's "Spicy Asian Chicken" (actually, this was pretty good).

So when Burger King introduced their new Transformers-themed menu and began offering a double-stack burger with freakin' BBQ sauce, I wanted to try it. Meat, cheese, bacon, BBQ sauce, bacon, a sesame bun, bacon ... train wreck! And I marveled at the utter brilliance of the whole thing: you see, it's just like the old BK Stacker burger, except ... shhhh ... they added BBQ sauce!



With trembling lip and weak knees, I wandered into the lunch line, slowly snaking its way toward the counter, where a porcine and ample-skinned woman waited to eventually take my order. And really, I was going to order that double-stacked BBQ burger, until I saw it on the menu, heralded by the words: "The New BK Double Stackticon!" That was when it all changed for me, my friend.

I was with them until they did the goofy play-on-words thing. It's a Transformers 2 tie-in, and the bad robots in Transformers are called the "Decepticons" (oh, how I dearly wish that I could say I had no knowledge of such things). So there it is: "double-stack" plus "Decepticon" equals "burger meal cleverly re-named to sound like a childish robot toy".

I do have some sense of self-awareness and dignity, really, I do. I am a grown man. Ok, ok, the "grown" adjective is heavily disputed in my case, I see your point. But I am a man. Alright, FINE, that statement is also hotly contested by those who know of my abiding love for fine fragrances and expensive moisturizers. But I do exist - can we all agree on that? And as someone who exists (PUT YOUR HAND DOWN, WE'LL TALK AFTERWARDS, OK?!), I really could not bring myself to stand in front of another adult human being and say the words, "I would like the double stackticon, please."

Couldn't do it.

Might as well try to stand at the counter and say, with any sense of self-respect, "I'd like to order to Mickey-Rin-Ticky Dilly-Woggle Beefy-Weefy Dub-dub-Cheezer Portly Platter, but make it snappy, the mayor is waiting for me to join him on a top-secret mission to Uranus."

So I got to the counter, looked her square in the eye, and then gestured wildly at the menu sign while grunting incoherently. Oddly enough, I got my burger, and managed to preserve my dignity.