Pizza Hut offers a good answer to the question "Why do the terroristshate us so much?" with their newest thirty-second ad campaign, packingas many wannabe disillusioned overly-pretentious Upper East-Siders asthey can into one room and telling them the dish they are about to tryis the from a hip, new Italian place on East 98th when it is instead,yes, from the maligned nationwide pizza chain.

   Too busy being pseudo-intellectual to worry about how it actually tastes, the former everyday wedgie-victims struggle to come up with the most appropriate adjective to describe the new dish, with one particular d-bag firing up a Hail Mary of sorts and dropping the word 'decadent' to describe the renowned Sicilian delicacy, pasta with bacon bits. 'Mmm, yes - this doesn't remind me of coming home drunk and ordering whatever the balls Pizza Hut can deliver at 3 in the morning, it reminds me, quite simply, of decadence.' His fellow Bohemians are stunned, needless to say: 'Hmm, this one seems refined. I wonder what he gets at Starbucks?'

   For the record, dictionary.com defines the word 'decadent' as 'one of a group of French and English writers of the latter part of the 19th century whose works were characterized by aestheticism, great refinement of subtlety or style, and a marked tendency towards the abnormal in content.' Oh - you mean like pasta with bacon bits?

   Pasta with bacon bits. Ristorante Italiano, er, Pizza Hut, was feeding these people pasta with bacon bits, and it was met with the same reaction Gus the mini dachshund expresses when we throw in leftover pizza crusts with his dog food.

   Naturally, Pizza Hut wasn't satisfied manipulating JUST a couple of insecure Manhattanites, exemplified by their latest apparent congregation of retards, bringing their all new lasagna to an actual restaurant in Italy. This one, I would imagine, was slightly easier to edit, given that they know they can show this commercial most places in the US and have most viewers just hear jibberish. Therefore, I firmly believe this exact conversation happened multiple times:

Furio: Hey, Angelo.

Angelo: Yes, Furio.

Furio: I'm pretty sure the kid writing our dialogue is Irish or some other bullshit, because our names seem a little bit too stereotypical, no? I bet he watched The Sopranos.

Angelo: I'm not sure what you mean.

Furio: Nevermind. Listen - do you remember that time we had to go to Washington, DC for business and we ended up getting lost in Virginia, and we had to eat at that random Pizza Hut on the side of the road?

Angelo: Of course.

Furio: This lasagna tastes like something that would come from that Pizza Hut. I'm not kidding. This is disgusting.

Angelo: Bullshit. You think?

Furio: I really think we're in one of those commercials where the d-bags from New York are fooled into thinking that the pasta and bacon bits they are eating is actually a delicacy from Sicily. Actually, I'm gonna call it right now. Watch.

Allessandro (overhearing from another table, leaning over): I JUST said that! To my wife! Didn't I honey?

Allessandro's wife, Fiorella: He did, he did.

Allessandro: This is garbage!

Furio (to Angelo): Wait for it. Waaaaiiiiit fooorrrr ittttt...

Now-wealthy owner of the restaurant: Can I have everyone's attention?

Furio (to Angelo): Holy shit, I am the man.

Now-wealthy owner of the restaurant (as Furio mouths along): Pizza Hut delivered the lasagna!

Furio: OHHHH! OHHHH! (he is dancing now) Tell me when to go (what) Tell me when to GOOOO, Tell me when to go (what) Tell me when to GOOOOOoooo mmmDAW mmmDAW mmmDAW mmmDAW, mmmDAW mmmDAW mmmDAW mmmDAW.