Toast and soup go together like cheese and sandwiches – it’s a match made in some generic factory somewhere. However, what if you could buy a readymade soup which already had the toast inside it, thusly saving you having to use your toaster (which will, thusly, save you a bit of unnecessary stress)?
That’s what soup on toast is all about – it’s soup and toast in a can! Made at our largely unhygienic premises, we toast the toast and then stick it into a soup we’ve made – it’s the genius of modern consumerism! It’ll also be available in some of the best flavours imaginable.
Soup on Toast
The beauty of canned food is the food inside the can doesn’t go mouldly. You can pick up a tin of beans first canned in the 1940s and you’ll still be able to eat the beans with relish and gusto. This is, indeed, awesome and a true indicator humanity can never be wiped off the face of the planet – not when tinned beans are around!
Certainly also not when you can buy tinned soup with some toast clogging up the bottom! With flavours such as kedgeree, deodorant, potato and geeks, and rhubarb, consumers will be going bananas for our soggy toast spectacular!
The soup will swell up inside the toast and turn the flour based stuff into a gelatinous blob of putrid irrelevance. Which is fabulous! Upon tasting it, you’ll retch slightly and proclaim the recipe to be an unmitigated disaster. But how can we ensure society will condemn it?
Obviously, the usual catalogue of artificial flavour enhancers will be in place to keep things ticking over nicely. We’ll have a mass of sugar and salt along with a dollop of mayonnaise, horseradish, vinegar, more salt, a gust of fire extinguisher fumes, and some marmalade. Who could want more? Well, there’s always bloody someone…
“But What About Croutons?!”
Croutons are nature’s icebergs, by which we mean they’re soup’s icebergs. These things are a danger to any soon or spork – they’ve been known to sink even unsinkable teeth. By this we mean some people have bitten on down into one and dislodged a mouth gnasher from their stupid face.
It’s difficult not to laugh in the face of crouton-based agony, but let us not forget these things are the scourge of the soup seas! They’re not toast, they’re mere imposters who hide in your soup and not leave an indelible impression on your mind as soup on toast will.
By plumping for a hefty wodge of toast, we can assure our followers they’re in for a carbohydrate fueled time of it. Eat one tin and you’ll be left bloated and irritable – you’ll grumpily want your money back, at which point you’ll read the fine print and realise we’ve waived your idiotic consumer rights. Take that, loser!