Franks & Wangs success story. Although these gasses and volatiles have been determined to be non-toxic, city bylaws restrict me from setting up in areas of the city not zoned industrial. The intersection where I set up that day, beside the cement kiln, tannery, and Taco Bell distribution warehouse, may have resulted in off-site vapors mixing with that 'good old Wang-tang' which resulted in an entirely less savory scent, and my unplanned and voluminous stomach evacuation.

The third apology relates to why people simply didn't flee when I, the owner/operator of the Franks & Wangs cart began vomiting on them. Here at Cylinder Meats LLC, we honestly believe that most of those who stayed were sincere fans of the Franks & Wangs experience, and simply chose to ride out this unexpected setback, waiting patiently for Frank and Wang service to resume. However we do acknowledge that at least a few customers wished to leave but couldn't, due to the lengths of chains securing them to the

Franks & Wangs cart at the time of the event.

It sounds like a sex thing, and some days it is a bit of a sex thing, but on that particular day, no sir, not a sex thing at all.

The Terms and Conditions written clearly on the bottom of every Franks & Wangs wrapper outline the need for this - it's really an example of the sort of red tape that strangles the small business owner. Essentially, the city's health department has decided that there is a "public health interest" in not allowing either a Frank or a Wang to leave the premises without several lengthy OSHA and NIOSH forms filled in. In order to spare our customers this hassle, and as there is a loophole centering around things physically contained within people, no customers are permitted to leave the vicinity of a

Franks & Wangs cart until they have finished their Frank or Wang. Aside from being a convenience for our customers, this policy also happily allows time for enhanced market research, proper digestion, and the development of a shared sense of community amongst Franks & Wangs enthusiasts.

Franks & Wangs was pronounced a "Best Bet" by the editors of Lowly Cur magazine.

On the subject of my vomit being flammable: the doctor I should probably go to would probably say that the ailments I probably have can only be cured with the application of repeated doses of plum wine, administered orally. It turns out that contracting for a chemical supplier to supply 75% abv plum wine is cheaper than getting it from a winery, and as I already deal with several such suppliers for business purposes, I was able to write-off most of these costs. The long and short of this digression into the haunted carnival of my medical history, is that I, many of my possessions, and all of my fluids are highly, highly flammable, and react poorly when aerosolized in the vicinity of a hot grill.

The fourth apology is the biggest one: I reacted poorly when the cart caught on fire, and I am sorry for it. Although not being cool under pressure is not itself a crime, I now appreciate that it is a really very necessary trait for the owner/operator of a

Franks & Wangs franchise to possess. When the first Wangs started exploding, spewing their contents around the area like a gag-can of snakes, any reaction other than vomit-choked crying would have been preferable to what I did: namely, vomit-choked crying. And when the first Frank fired off the grill like a rocket, ricocheting off cars and my customer-base, my tear-choked vomiting only made things worse, highly flammable as it was. My next action, cowardly sprinting, was perhaps the most understandable thing I did that day, considering the stream of fire which trailed close behind me, igniting the various terror-fluids I had dripping out of me as I ran. Although a sense of self-preservation is a hallmark of all life forms, I am nevertheless sorry for this as well, as it resulted in several of my customers unable to escape the chains which bound them to what had essentially turned in to a meaty artillery piece.

My fifth apology relates to how I returned to the scene of the crime in disguise several hours later, where I attempted to deflect blame for the incident from the missing owner of the cart, and place it on the shoulders of "NAFTA." I didn't really understand what that word meant at the time, and just assumed it was a widely accepted scapegoat. But it actually didn't have much to do with anything (I now understand it's a type of Mexican car) and when everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at me, I knew I had to give up.

I didn't though, and that's the sixth apology, although it's just as much an apology to myself, as the guilt-vomit I experienced two seconds later ended up getting mostly on myself.

There is a truly unpleasant amount of backsplash when vomiting inside a Ronald Reagan mask, a point which Point Break didn't address at all.

Finally, I would like to apologize for having the chutzpah to mention that no-one really wins in a law suit. The lawyers win, sure, and sometimes I guess these activist judges do as well, if I understand things correctly. The plaintiffs also win sometimes, and if we're all being honest, probably would in a case such as this. But no amount of money will ever bring back the hopes and skin and food carts of those that suffered that day. For indeed, if we ignore many of my actions, all of them really, I can be considered a victim of this as well.

Yours Sorrily,

Chris Xerxes Bucholz, Founder & Chief Apologizing Officer, Cylinder Meats LLC.

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