Even though I haven't eaten at Wendy's since 2000 when I threw up their Spicy Chicken sandwich, I was just as concerned about the finger-in-the-chili incident as the next guy. Unless the next guy is Jason, because that man loves his chili, and my concern just doesn't measure up to his. Anyhoo, in order to get to the bottom of this disturbing find, I thought I'd go right to the top dog, and interview the founder of Wendy's, Mr. Dave Thomas.
Look, the guy from all the commercials!
The only problem is, Dave Thomas has been dead for 3 years, and one of the feet on my Ouija Board broke off last time I had a heated discussion with Jimmy Beam. So, I went with the next best thing, an interview with his granddaughter, Miss Sabrina Thomas.
Jay: Thanks for being with us today, Sabrina.
Sabrina: No problem.
J: So what do you think your grandfather would have said about "FingerGate"?
S: Oh, he's not too happy about it. He says he'll never eat at Wendy's again.
J: He won't? Wow, that's shocking.
S: Not really. He's pretty stubborn. He hasn't eaten at McDonald's since they got rid of the McRib in 1983.
J: He used to eat at McDonald's? Isn't that a conflict of interest? What about consumer confidence?
S: I don't know what you mean.
J: I just mean that I don't think Dave Thomas should be seen eating anywhere but at Wendy's. Stocks would plummet; it would be terrible for business.
S: Isn't Dave Thomas dead?
J: You should know, he's your grandfather!
S: No he's not. My grandfather is Artie Thomas. He used to be a steel worker, but now he just drives around town on this little motor scooter, scaring small children with his false teeth.
J: Are you sure?
S: Yes I'm sure! Jeez lady, what did you do, just open the phone book to the Thomas section and pick someone at random?
S: I see.
J: Well, do you have any relation to Dave Thomas at all? Any affiliation with Wendy's?
S: Not really. I had a baked potato there the other day.
J: Shit. This really fucks up the rest of my interview. Listen, do you think you could just pretend, or something?
S: I guess...
J: Okay, so Miss Thomas, what's it like being the heiress to a fortune? Do you hang out with the Hiltons?
S: Well, I've seen Paris Hilton on TV before. That girl has a face like a horse.
J: So you're not close personal friends then?
J: What do you do then? What's a day in the life of Sabrina Thomas like?
S: Well, I get up, eat breakfast, take the bus to school, go -
J: You take the bus to school?
S: Limo. I meant limo. Sorry. I take the limo to school.
J: You still go to school? I thought heiresses all dropped out when they were 12 to get plastic surgery and become anorexic fashion models.
S: Oh. Right.
J: So, did it hurt?
S: Did what hurt?
J: Your boob job!
J: I thought so. Jeez, you’d think your grand-dad would have sprung for more than just a B cup. Is he pretty stingy? I thought Wendy’s was doing pretty well, but then why not the bigger model?
S: Listen, this is getting weird –
J: Okay, fine. We’ll let the before and after pictures speak for themselves.
S: I have to meet my boyfriend in 10 minutes, so if you could just wrap this up –
J: Boyfriend? What boyfriend? Who are you seeing? Orlando Bloom? Josh Hartnett? One of the Hobbits?
S: No. His name is Ronald. He’s a senior at Rydell High –
J: Oooh, I bet it’s Nick Carter! That boy just loves the rich bitches. So, has he tattooed your name anywhere yet? It would be cool if he tattooed the Wendy’s logo to his bicep. Wendy’s would get some better press anyway.
S: I guess so.
J: So tell me, how is Nick Carter these days? He’s gotten chubby since he broke up with Paris. Is it drugs, or is he just depressed that the Back Door Boys are splitting up?
S: The Back Street Boys are splitting up?
J: I don’t know, you tell me!
S: I really don’t know anything about it.
J: What are you, the new Ono or something? Don’t be so coy.
S: I just...no comment.
J: Fine, fine, have it your way. You don't have to be so secretive. I don’t work for the tabloids you know.
S: I kind of figured that. Your ‘press credentials’ look a lot like a library card.
J: Shut up!
S: You shut up!
J: Oh, real mature.
S: Listen lady, I’m just a high school kid who is trying to be nice to a lady who obviously didn’t take her meds this morning. I don’t have to stay here and take this.
J: Oh, please stay. We were just getting to the juicy stuff. It’ll be over soon, I promise.
J: I won’t even mention your boyfriend anymore. But you know, the secret’s only safe until the paparazzi catch you two having a Jamba Juice or something, and then it will blow up in your face. You better start wearing a little more makeup. And tell Nick to do a few more crunches.
S: He’s not my boyfriend!
J: Okay, okay! Jeez, can someone say Diva much? Let’s just move along to the next question, shall we? What do you think about the new Louis Vuitton line this season? Is green really the new pink?
S: I wouldn’t know.
J: Oh, is Louis Vuitton out this year? Did you send Jessica Simpson that memo?
S: Uh, no.
J: So where do you go for all your handbag needs then?
S: Oh, Target, mostly.
J: Honey, you might want to keep that little nugget to yourself when the reality shows come sniffing.
S: Well, thanks for the unsolicited advice.
J: No problem.
( uncomfortable silence)
( 7 minutes later)
S: Well what? You didn’t ask me any questions.
J: You know, they say Russell Crowe is a real bitch to work with, but you’ve got an attitude on you bigger than 100 old-fashioned hamburgers stacked back to back.
S: Okay, lady, this interview is over. I hope you get medical treatment for your condition.
J: Wait, come back! Please! We can talk about the ski season in Aspen! I'll be good, I promise! Come back! I have nothing else to put on my blog this week, and Ashton Kutcher's third cousin's best friend's neighbour's hair-dresser just took a restraining order out on me...