Simple. Direct. Just 30 words to describe their flagship sandwich, the sandwich that will stand valiantly on the bow of the S.S. McDonald's as it sinks.
Here's only a quarter of the words Taco Bell uses to describe the general concept of fountain drinks:
Hey, this is a cup. It comes in four sizes, and you can fill it with the fountain drink of your choice.
You can put ice in it, too, if you want. You've probably experienced a cup before, so let's talk about what you really want to know: our place in the ever expanding universe.
If you were to get all four of these cups, you'd find that they comfortably fit inside each other. Each, an identical but smaller version of itself, like a Taco Bell Matryoshka doll. Matryoshka dolls, for all of you running to Wiki right now, are those traditional wooden Russian dolls that have one doll inside another doll, inside another doll, etc. Not only are they beautiful examples of Eastern European craftsmanship, but they're physical metaphors for life's complex layers of awareness. See, like our fountain drink cups or Matryoshka dolls, human experience is predicated on macro and micro iterations of the cogs that build it.
It's like that for nearly every description on the site. So much of it feels like a middle-aged guy was asked to binge Rick And Morty and use some of that distilled magical essence to explain burritos. Almost every product page is filled with non-sequitur irreverence that uses fast food Tex-Mex as a backdrop to get "deep" or "surreal" with "comedy." Each page is written like a shortform article with original titles, almost like blog posts. They even have Facebook and Twitter share buttons. Don't worry; you blocked the only people who've used them a long time ago.
Before I go too deep into it, know that some of the descriptions are actually a little funny. For instance, Taco Bell acknowledges that it's weird that you could buy just a cup of seasoned rice from them if you want in the title of the page in question, which reads "Wait, You Just Want Rice?" This is followed by the subtitle "Are you sure?" Then, after they try talking the reader out of buying their products, the paragraph ends with "just know that literally NOBODY gets just rice from Taco Bell." That's the kind of self-aware pandering we irreverent millennials want out of our corporate brands. If their Breakfast Quesadilla description was just a step-by-step lesson on how to dab, I wouldn't be surprised.