Frank’s RedHot Sauce is now at A&W.

History just split down the middle. Teen Burgers are no longer Teen Burgers—they’re weapons-grade. Onion rings have crossed into the realm of the divine. Fries dipped in Frank’s will be spoken of in hushed tones, like ancient rituals too powerful for mortal tongues.

Forget the moon landing. Forget fire. Forget the wheel. All of it pales beside the moment Frank’s packets landed under the orange-and-brown banner. From here on out, calendars reset. The old world is gone. The new one drips cayenne.

Centuries from now, when future civilizations sift through the rubble of our age, they’ll find a single crumpled packet stamped with Frank’s logo. That packet won’t be treated as trash—it’ll be worshipped.