So Storm (of Paul and Storm, naturally) posted this to Twitter. And by the end of it I was screaming too. I don’t know why, I just couldn’t help myself.

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Why is that so terribly disturbing? Best not to speculate.

I do see very readily, though, that this strange anthropomorphic hot dog–this refugee from Upton Sinclair’s The Fugitive–had an ancestor:

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Okay, that’s also disturbing. What sort of mad world is it in which a giant disembodied head has a processed meat jester to cavort for the head’s amusement–and then the jester simply lays down in a bun to be consumed? And we know the head is a giant one because do a size comparison between the head and the people working the concession stand. Are they merely the slaves of this floating horror, destined to do naught but produce the anthro-hot dogs in vats beneath the drive-in and send them to their grinning doom?

Man, I really need to clear my head of this madness.

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Ah, sweet. That did it, thanks.