I was driving home from L.A. when I saw a banner over a Denny's, advertising endless pancakes. I thought to myself, what the hell would I do with endless pancakes? I can't even finish two pancakes, let alone an infinite onslaught of pancakes.

How many pancakes do you expect me to eat before I say to myself, "Oh, my God, I'm eating fried cake batter for breakfast, and I should probably stop sometime before my pancreas explodes"?

I'm only one man, Denny's. There's room for two pancakes. After that, close whatever blasphemous vortex from which pours your parallel dimension of endless pancakes, before you forever rend the fabric of time and space and drown the known universe in breakfast pastries.

And while you're at it, can you bring me some endless syrup?