The Tenacious D of Cooking

What's worse than two fat guys who would rather eat than breathe? I'll tell you what's worse. Two fat guys who would rather eat than breathe, who can cook the hinges off the very gates of hell.

I started the show by making the single best pizza I've ever made. Ordinarily, my pies are just very good, but I tinkered around with this one, and it was so good, any sane man would give his left nut just to sniff the crust. Then Mike made garlic rolls so divine they could have been the angels' droppings. My rolls are magical, and I think his may be even better. Then he made a ONE HUNDRED PERCENT PERFECT NEW YORK STYLE PIZZA. I mean, you would swear you were standing in Union Square, surrounded by dirtbags trying to sell you Jersey Joints.

After that, we hacked a couple of slices off my strawberry cheesecake. I think that was the point where I began to hallucinate. Great gaping rips began to appear in the shimmering fabric separating madness from reality. That is some good cheesecake, my friends. Mike and I have both eaten the New York crap, and we agree, mine poops on it from a very high precipice. In your FACE, Junior's. While I was cutting it, I licked a little bit of the strawberry goo off my thumb, and that alone made it necessary to brace myself and lean against the counter for support.

We're talking about opening a drive-through called "F___ You if You Don't Want Pizza." I guess we would run into zoning problems, however. The idea is this: Mike makes the pizza and rolls, and I make the cheesecake, and THAT'S ALL YOU GET, BITCHES. If you don't like it, take your sorry asses to Burger King.

We're going to see if we can eat more cheesecake. I'm not even sure it's possible.

I shot some video. You'll see it on Youtube sooner or later. You really have to see this guy work a batch of dough. I cried a little.

Okay, piss off. I think I can ram more food down my hole now if I really try.