Usually fast-fooders promise you the moon and then deliver something otherworldly that eats like it was made in a NASA lab. You know how they make allusions to Tuscan this and Black Angus that, or genuine Philly/Chicago/NYC style - and then wind up serving you a drastically different piece of crap.

But recently, a courageous and pioneering mega-chain has stepped up to the plate - wait, make that the paper wrapper - to launch a brave ad campaign that bends over backwards to restore truth in advertising.

What I tried: Burger King's Angry Whopper ($4.29)

Anger management: One night while watching TV a friend and I saw a funny Burger King commercial that showed a deranged farmer down on his hands and knees screaming and torturing onions growing in his field. The next scene showed the grown-up onions, which had apparently been "waitin' for vengeance," actually exacting it by burning the hell out of some guy's mouth who bit into an Angry Whopper.

See, the Angry Whopper is supposedly loaded with super-hot "Angry Onions," jalapenos, "Angry Sauce" and pepperjack cheese. Anyway, my friend told me I needed to Taste Test that thing ASAP.

Well, I went out and ordered one, but when I brought it home, I noticed the window cuisine specialist had screwed up. See, the sandwich did have the Angry Sauce - which was a sort of thick barbecue gel with a chemically fake hickory taste and a blatant burn bereft of interest - but none of the other spicy fixins. Angry? Yeah, I was getting there.

Angrier management: When I returned to my unfriendly neighborhood Burger King, I was scolded for not bringing back the incorrectly made sandwich, which I had pitched in the garbage can. After some absurd deliberation, the King's subjects deigned to bequeath me with another Angry Whopper. Wrong again.

This time the flabby sweet seeded bun once again held a gray and dry burger with that unappealing, phony-baloney "flame-broiled" flavor and once again it had that nasty Angry Sauce on it.

But while Take Two did have some flimsy greasy sweet onion rings - i.e. the Angry Onions (unlike Take One) - it didn't have any jalapenos or pepperjack cheese (like Take One). Angry? Oh, I was there!

When I called up the shop, I was dismissively told they'd simply run out of jalapenos and pepperjack. When I voiced my anger over this, the perturbed manager got on the phone, yet still didn't offer me anything in return (like my freaking money!) but began telling off her coworkers.

Suddenly I got it. It was pure genius. Everybody concerned was completely pissed off. It truly was ... an Angry Whopper!

Would I try it again?: I still haven't tried it the first time. And I'm still angry!