Now, I want you to remember that no bastard ever won an MVP by eating his vegetables. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard eat his and everyone else's. Men, all this stuff you've heard about America not wanting to eat, wanting to eat a balanced diet, is a lot of horse dung. Americans traditionally love the beef. All real Americans love the bloat of battle. When you were kids, you all admired the champion whiskey shooter, the fastest beer chugger, the big league Chocodile pounder, the toughest drunkard. Americans love a Carnivore and will not tolerate a Vegan! Americans eat to win all the time. I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and vomited. That's why we have never lost and will never lose a steak eating contest. Because the very thought of losing is hateful.
Now, Steakfest is a team effort. It lives, eats, sleeps, fights as a team. This individuality stuff is a bunch of crap. The bilious bastards who wrote that stuff about individuality for the Saturday Evening Post don't know anything more about real eating than they do about fornicating.
We have the finest food and utensils, the best spirits and the best men in the world. You know, by God I actually pity those poor bastards are going to cook for us! By God, I do. We're not just going to eat those steaks, we're going to cut out the lumps of fat out and give them to Rob to tread his intestines with. We're going to murder those lousy Hun Cows by the bushel!
Now, some of you boys, I know, are wondering whether or not you'll Vegan out under fire. Don't worry about it. I can assure you that you will all do your duty. The Cows are the enemy. Wade into them. Spill their blood. Knife them in the Ribeye. When you put your hand into a bunch of goo that a moment before was your appetizer, you'll know what to do.
Now there's another thing I want you to remember. I don't want to get any messages saying that we are taking a rest. We're not resting anything! Let the Cow do that. We are eating constantly and we're not interested in resting onto anything except the our elbows on the table. We're going to hold onto those steaks by the gristle and we're going to bite them in the rump. We're going to eat the hell out of Arhtur's Steakhouse all fest long and it's gonna go through us like crap through a goose.
There's one thing that you men will be able to say when you get back home. And you may thank God for it. Thirty years from now when you're sitting around your proctologist's office with his hand up your ass and he asks you what did you do in the great Steak Fest VI, you won't have to say, "Well, I binged on Lima Beans in Louisiana."
Alright now, you sons-of-bitches, you know how I feel. Oh, and I will be proud to lead you magnificent bastards into Hoboken- anytime, anywhere.
That's all.
The time has come for steak. Plans are being drawn for the sixth edition of SteakFest! This year promises to be gluttony of epic proportions. This installment of Steakfest will take place on October 22nd, this year at the Arthurs' in Emerson, NJ.