Hey there, Flavor Town fanatics! It's your favorite frosted-tip foodie Guy Fieri here with a wild tale to tell. Johnny Bravo and I recently took a ride in our homemade time machine, and let me tell you, things got crazier than a bacon-wrapped jalapeno popper!
We didn't set the coordinates right, so we ended up smack dab in April 20th, 1999 at Columbine High School. Now, normally I'd be all about checking out the school cafeteria for some killer eats (literally), but Johnny was freaking out about the whole shooting thing.
I told him not to worry because we had each other's backs like cheese on macaroni. So off I went sniffing out that delicious pizza scent while Johnny tried his luck hitting on some high school hotties by the girl's restroom.
Next thing you know, shots start ringing out like sizzle on a hot grill. We dashed through those halls faster than my '68 Camaro down Route 66. But when it quieted down, my stomach started doing somersaults worse than an overcooked burger.
I let loose one epic beer fart that could wake the dead - or in this case, alert two shooters to our hiding spot in that same girl's restroom stall. Talk about bad timing! As Eric and Dylan closed in on us like hungry wolves eyeing their prey (and trust me folks; they were NOT craving triple-D burgers), Johnny did something crazy heroic.
He scooped up my mess of shame and flung it at those guys' faces faster than you can say "flavor explosion." That distraction gave us just enough time to make a break for it back to our trusty old time machine before zapping ourselves back home where safety was as comforting as nacho cheese sauce after midnight munchies.
And let me tell you folks; nothing beats coming home from such an adventure – even if it means dealing with dirty laundry of both literal AND metaphorical kinds!
Until next time when danger calls again – keep rocking those bowling shirts and flip-flops loud n' proud! Flavortown forever baby!