escape from tarcov

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I was born in a small restaurant. I was still a child when we were raided by burgers... Foreign burgers. Torn from my elders, I was made to fry their meals. With each new chain, my managers changed, along with the fries they made me cook... With each change, I changed too... My hygiene standards, grilling speed, how I saw cooked and raw... Meals can kill...

Time and again the meal was eaten by a foreign customer, when he was a young boy, he lost his native recipe; the bedrock for any developing chef.

His restaurant, his meal deals, his face, his identity, everything was stolen from him.

Since ancient times every restaurant's chef has had the same idea; when ingredients unite under one bun, they become tastier than the sum of their parts, and what do chefs use to bring ingredients together? Cheese...

This menu will become one, I have found the way. Price, diet affiliations, 6 nugget orders, even our nutritional information will be irrelevant.

The restaurant that The Chef envisioned will finally become a reality and it will make unhealthiness whole again.

Burger King is a restaurant of liberty, a meeting of immigrants... Instead of simply having a fixed menu, its customers choose to "have it their way".

So The Chef sought a system that used information; orders, to control the cashiers.

In his eyes, the greatest symbiotic parasite the world has ever known isn't microbial; its linguistic. Orders are what keep restaurants - our fast food chain - alive. Free the customers, not by taking their money, but by taking their orders.

WITH THIS, I RID THE CHAIN OF INFESTATION... ~HAPPY MEAL KIDS MENU~... The pork will be pulled for Saunders, and then... It shall be discounted.