With the release of the "Meat Mountain," Arby's has made it clear that they are ready to step up to the plate in the Major Leagues of big sandwiches. And they really only have one thing to say about it: "We're not fucking around anymore."
Ten dollars might seem like a steep price for a fast food sandwich. Because it is. But for a meal consisting of every single kind of meat you can think of (and probably more), it's totally worth it, even if the meat and cheese is on the cusp of expiring.
At first sight, you'll think the same thing you've heard your sister say to all your friends so many times before. "How the fuck am I going to fit this goddamn thing in my mouth?" You'll take the first bite and think "There's no damn way I'm going to finish this."
One question you might have about the creation and expulsion of this fucking monster of a sandwich is "How does all that shit fit between two buns?" But we're going to ignore you. Because you can just look at the photo above. And after reading the ingredients below, you can just imagine what it feels like coming out.
2 Chicken Tenders
1.5 oz. of Roast Turkey
1.5 oz. of Ham,
1 Slice of Swiss Cheese
1.5 oz. of Corned Beef
1.5 oz. Brisket
1.5 oz. of Angus Steak
1 Slice of Cheddar Cheese
1.5 oz. roast beef
3 Half-Strips of Bacon
Sure, the Meat Mountain tastes great. But the thing that separates Arby's Meat Mountain from the rest of the boring quarter-pounders is the fact that it's not just about the flavor. It's about the experience. Kind of like rim jobs. To be able to tell your friends that you stuffed yourself with eight different kinds of meat in one sitting is almost better than telling them you won a bar fight against eight drunk and angry Harley riders. The warranted masculinity that courses through your veins after finishing this motherfucker almost outweighs the thirty pounds of meat and cheese that will be sitting in your stomach for the next few hours.
So go try it. And tell them that MoistMyTown sent you.
Arby's Meat Mountain:
MOISTURE RATING: 4.5/5 Drops