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Tackling Oblivion's Fatass

Food challenge wannabe tackles a taproom's biggest burger

Photo: N/A, License: N/A, Created: 2011:10:12 19:28:44

Fatass burger from Oblivion

I can't tell if my friends are proud, disgusted or both, but they clap. I tamed the Fatass. I wasn't this proud on my college graduation day. Our waitress walks over, presumably to tell me to shut the hell up.


Waitress: Holy shit ...

Me: You can take that platter now.

9:41 p.m.
It's 10 minutes post-Fatass, and I am not entertained. My stomach is slowly churning, my breathing's hastened and now the buzz of my beer is kicking in.

Me: Seriously, it's starting to pick up down there.

Kayle: Dude, you're thinking about it too much. Just finish your beer so we can head downtown.

Me: Wait, downtown?

A-Rod: Yeah, I told you that's where we're going, remember?

Me: There's no way I can drink anymore, guys – that whiskey would light me up now after this shit.

A-Rod: Don't worry, I've got some Smirnoff Ices you can chug in the truck, instead.

9:48 p.m.
It's official. The Fatass has plugged me into another plane of existence. It's like being extremely drunk – everything looks fuzzy and flung down a long hallway – with all the perks of food magma sloshing around inside you, but wihtout the hopes of getting laid.

Walking through the restaurant is a Cirque Du Soleil of shame, tripping and stumbling as we walk out the door. We get in A-Rod's truck. I immediately face a pincer attack of drowsiness and nausea, during which I contemplate the fact that I bartered my self-respect for a novelty-sized cheeseburger. A-Rod hands me a Green Apple Smirnoff Ice, a smug grin on his face.

A-Rod: Drink up.

Me: I hate you so much right now ...

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