The hottest, most culturally "interesting" barbeque in Washington State. You go into this old garage and inside this woman serves you a fairly tasty brisket sandwhich, and you sit outside with a cold root beer in hand.
Here is where hell comes to visit.
So this guy, known as Gene the Machine comes out with the red death-like sauce and asks you whether you have met "The Man", to which you need a response...
From this point there are three scenarios:
1 -> You have already felt the pain and have met the man / you dont want it any more: "Yes gene i've met the man and have been humbled by the awesome power of your spent cesium like hotness"
2 -> You've never tried it, and are scared: "Yes i've met the man, thats fine, thanks"
3 -> You've tried it, and are not scared: "Bring it on! Gimme a bit!" (Editors note: my response.. bad idea.)
4-> Your wife left you, you want death to come, and in a slow creeping magma like fashion: "You call this hot sauce! This is nothing. Bring it on gene, you pansy fancy man. That isnt nothin'. You probably have that with your corn flakes in the morning boy."
(Editors note: I take no responsibility for going down path number 4.)
At any rate.. you want to eat the cornbread, and the peanuts they have on hand. They are like rafts to a drowning man. The stuff is hot, and the atmosphere is great... although you probably want to be careful.. ;)