The Burger King Whopper Bar is, according to some ad copy, “a unique dining experience for the Whopper connoiseur (sic), with premium toppings and gourmet sandwiches you won’t find anywhere else.” They have locations in only the finest cosmopolitan cities, like South Beach, Las Vegas and Kansas City, and a visit to their website is like stepping into a chilled-out lounge for hamburger fetishists: “My onions are angry,” intones a sexy woman’s voice over a generic beat. I’m no Whopper connoisseur, but the idea of building your own burger intrigued me.
“What toppings do you want?”
“All of them, please. Every topping.”
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