It’s inappropriate to crave a hot dog. Fleshy and absolutely reliant on condiments, the hot dog is a garbage-tier food source. You could probably rob me with a hot dog.
If you were to drop a hot dog into the depths of a desolate outhouse in rural West Virginia, it wouldn’t be any worse for wear. Those greasy tubes of emulsified meat reach terminal grossness as soon as they plop into existence. You’d arguably be better off, gaining distance from such filth.
The facts are inarguable. That won’t stop the opposition, though. I can see them now. They’ll froth at the mouth as they angrily chew at their precious hot dogs. They’ll throw their heads back, cursing my name, as they shake and spit, slowly covering the room in tiny pieces of rat meat and pork anus.