You were there on the glorious day that its grill was first ignited. People told you that they wouldn’t dare go near that concessionaire whose welcome sign consisted of what appeared to be paint and/or sharpie on an irregularly-shaped piece of plywood. But since that first fateful trip to that hot dog stand at the intersection (you can still taste the quarter-pounder all-beef frank slathered with peanut butter and onions, topped with a strip of bacon that you ordered), you have been spreading the word of the new fast-food joint that will bring liberation to the Liberty off-campus community that has long grown tired of dry Ezell’s chicken tenders and bitter Kami soy sauce. Your tales of great barbequed meat pillars slathered with any combination of a plethora of toppings are enough to bring more than a few drops of wishful saliva to the lips of any Patriot. Even the teachers usually lost in conversation with each other about mischievous students, the latest Tupperware fashions, and other whatnot stop and stare shamelessly when they see you marching down the hall with your aluminum foil-clad wiener in hand. You think of yourself as not a zealot of this new and mysterious sausage peddler, but instead a crusader who will use his foot-long meat sword to slap a serving of justice in the face of the other overpriced entities that have held Liberty students’ wallets by the throats for far too long. Wiener World Fanatic Kid—you’re one of us.