If you go to GPK and look under the Seafood Pizza section, you’ll find a pizza called “Cuba.”
The only thing this pizza is missing is holy water, essence of Jesus and powdered children. It’s like eating an atomic bomb, except replace Uranium-28 with Jessica Alba and add liberal amounts of Kick-Ass.
How is “Cuba” in any way related to Cuba? I have no idea, but I’m sure that GPK employed an entire team of pastry artists, sauce psychologists, and topping chefs who spent weeks designing this superpizza down to the finest detail, and if they chose the land of Cuba to be its patron saint, so be it.
I don’t know very much about Cuba, but I know they export huge cigars. Smoking regular cigarettes is for women. Unconvinced? The word cigarette comes from the Latin ‘cigarius’ meaning ‘smoking tube’ and ‘-ette’ meaning ‘for gays.’ Cuban cigars, on the other hand, could make the entire cast of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy look like a platoon of flamethrower-wielding German storm troopers. AND, they had a communist revolution, which is one step below “strangle yourself with your bare hands” on the manliness scale of things to do to pass the time.
So, what’s Cuba like? Well first, I’m guessing that the majority of the population would be muscular, moustachioed men in the agricultural industry, cultivating ingredients for the Cuban pizza and Cuban cigars. Everyone else would assumedly be communists or other types of revolutionaries.
I imagine the streets of Cuban cities to be ablaze with the fires of revolution. I imagine there would be cavalry battles on the main street, the palace in flames, Fidel Castro leading his men into battle. Cubans would never sleep, because it would be impossible over the sound of artillery and the piercing screams of wounded patriots. But who cares? Sleeping is for women and children. I could live in this fine land. In fact, I think I’ll pack my bags.
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