You would think that eating lunch with Keanu Reeves in my cubicle at my shitty job would be cause for considerable excitement, but Keanu, that super-chill motherfucker, did not have much to say. He just sat there and stared at my amazing creation, silent, contemplative, and full of a burning intensity that I cannot describe. In order to break the awkward surface tension that follows him everywhere I decided to strike up the conversation by explaining how I give every batch of my chili its own unique name, kind of similar to tropical storms or hurricanes. I do this for the same purpose that meteorologists name hurricanes: to identify that specific chili's batch, intensity, heat, and of course...destructive output.
This particular batch was named "The Grand Canyon" because photos and descriptions can never do it justice. You just had to be there, bro. TGC definitely lived up to its name as it was indescribably beautiful, fragrant, and delicious. TGC also outperformed my two previous batches, "The Colon Hammer" and "The Ray Bradbury Theatre", with startling dominance. It truly was a wonder of the world.
F - 2,450.9
A - 2,350.9
T - 2,450.9
T - 2,450.1
The Grand Canyon scored brilliantly on all metrics of the FATT scale. The fun, tastiness, and texture were near perfect. Much like visiting the canyon in person, eating this chili gave me spiritual strength and clarity that filled my being with a temporary peace of mind that cannot be stated in mortal words. However, this peace lasted maybe 45 minutes because soon after the wave of euphoria passed the chili itself also passed violently through my bowels. It was an awesome roller coaster of enlightenment and fear that left me feeling like a better, stronger, more focused human.
Keanu was there watching me the whole time, too. He didn't try the chili, but he did finally start talking when I told him how awesome his performance in Point Break was. That movie is amazing.
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