I take umbrage at the imperative command on the pouch. It's so judgmental. "You," it says to me, "are a dirty, mangy, flea-ridden lout. You are unworthy to be in the presence of even this mediocre sandwich. Go! Refresh yourself! And do not return until you do!"
It's still not too late to agitate for the return of the Burger King sausage biscuit, whose cruel and sudden discontinuation in August 1983 almost proved fatal to the completion of my doctoral dissertation. The final section, fueled by demonstrably inferior Hardee's biscuits, is perceptibly more stupid than the rest of the document.