Once upon a time there was a magical place called Mr. C's Hot Dogs. Actually there were several of these magical places around the Kanawha Valley. The magical thing about Mr. C's was the slaw they served: It was yellow. Not only was it yellow, it was sweet and wonderful. But a great evil came over the land and one by one, the magical Mr C's began to disappear. One day without much explanation, Mr. C's was simply no more and the magical yellow slaw was gone. There was much sadness throughout the valley.
But one day a rumor was heard that Mr. C's had been reborn. The place was said to be located in Cross Lanes and was not called "Mr. C's" but instead chose a new letter a few spaces up the alphabet array: Mr. G's, it was said, is the same wonderful, magical hot dog joint with the same, magical yellow slaw. As the rumor spread, hope too began to return to the land.
So, a Knight of the Weenie order went on a quest: A quest to discover the magical yellow slaw of yore.
Mr. G's was easy enough to find. Straight through the stoplight in the land where the Lanes Cross, toward the Big Mountain of Tyler. The intrepid Knight traveled just a few short miles and there was the shining temple of hot dog glory called Mr. G's. The Knight was beside himself with glee: Would he be the one to restore the people's hope by revealing the location of the magical yellow slaw?
No, he would not.
For it seems that the rumors of the yellow slaw, as is often the case with rumors, were untrue. The slaw served at Mr. G's was as white as snow, though it was quite tasty. Very sweet and finely made. It sits atop chili that has almost no taste other than that of the meat from which it is made; no spice, no herb, nothing but meat. Mustard and onions are properly served and the hot dog warrants a good rating of Four Weenies. More spice in the chili would be an improvement, but this hot dog was good enough to bring a momentary smile to the lips of the Knight.
The quest for the yellow slaw will continue another day.