We might as well break it to you now: this Rebanadas review was going to be the funniest story ever written, but Sav-on Drugs destroyed it. I'm not kidding; they single-handedly ruined what could have been considered, in smaller, more culturally stunted circles, art. And when you take review writing as seriously and as personally as I do, that hurts. It cuts deep, like a knife to the heart. It feels like each and every Sav-on employee had sex with my mom and laughingly mailed me the videotaped evidence afterwards. Except they aren't just laughing at me, dear reader; they're laughing you, too. They also humped YOUR mom. As a matter of fact, they humped ALL of our moms. When everything is said and done, we've all been victimized by the specter of "what could have been," thanks to Sav-on Drugs.
"What was your name again? Homelly?"
"What!? Crap! There's no way! What do I do about this? Did the film maybe get mixed up or something?"
That's the kind of service you get when you staff a giant convenience store with convicts and retards. This could have been the funniest review ever, but thanks to Sav-on Drugs, it's been reduced to half-assed comedy without pictures. And if there's one thing that comics and the Internet have taught me, it's that words aren't worth reading if they don't come with pictures. Especially if they don't come with pictures of naked chicks and car bomb victims.
Fortunately, Ben and I aren't ones to let adversity get us down. We're professionals, and we've got a job to do. "We're all business up front, party in the back," Ben often says, though he's usually referring to our sporty mullets when he does. We had to come up with a way to illustrate the review without having to eat this Rebanadas crap again, because there was no goddamn way we were going to suffer through that twice! And of course we would never even CONSIDER taking advantage of our trusting readership by faking photographs of our exploits. We were left with just one option: we would have to draw the damn thing.
Now, despite the overwhelmingly positive response we've had to the new website design, I make no claims to being an accomplished artist. Hell, I even have trouble using rubber stamps properly. I'm like an unenthusiastic Jackson Pollock: not only do I lack any real talent, but I also don't have the courage or dedication to convince people otherwise. And Ben is dangerous to himself and others when holding a pencil. But we did what we could, and if you decide to follow the link to the next page (which, believe it or not, actually contains a candy review), you have nobody to blame but yourself.
Now, enough about our problems. Ladies and gentleman, but mostly the ladies: may we present... Rebanadas.
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