In the spring of 1774, amidst a tumultuous political climate and with the colonies' future in question, Benjamin Franklin made an astonishing discovery: if you put beef between two slices of bread, it is awesome. With this simple axiom in hand, he approached Thomas Jefferson with the prospect of founding a new nation, one defined not by laws, borders or religions, but by sandwich.
Enlisting the help of other enlightened figures of import, the founding burgerers began drafting a document that would change the world. Where other countries sought laws to declare sovereignty, the founders wanted unity with all people across the world, and wished for their writings to spread across the globe and usher in a new world of universal understanding, free of polemics, guaranteeing equality and complimentary french fries for all people. To this end, delegates from the 13 colonies met in Philadelphia to create the legislation, each contributing a single ingredient to the recipe that would be the foundation of the declaration: the recipe for the perfect burger.
There were, however, those who did not want this utopia to come to fruition. Calling themselves "vegetarians," bastardized from the Latin for "spreader of venerea," these dissenters sought to sabotage the the great work by slandering the burger. This shadow organization, united through the screed The Protocols of the Elders of Vegan, decided to save cows from being turned into burgers in the only way they could think of: by killing them in the hundreds. This organization went on to become PETA.
Despite making absolutely no sense, the ploy worked. Seeing the near eradication of the cow population caused the colonists to rebel against the declaration's initial draft. Panicked by the thought of having their work be for nothing, the founders drastically altered the document to appease the populace, removing the recipe for the perfect burger and changing the tone from that of unity to one emphasizing separation, disagreement, arbitrarily drawn boundaries, divisive belief in fictitious deities, and a penchant for always believing the least intelligent members of society over the brightest and electing said people to the highest office. Disheartened at the inversion of his dream, Franklin hid his secret burger recipe and fled to France (this is why America now hates France; our man left us for them).
And so America was founded on a weakened, soy-based ethos. Burger culture was forgotten, while a diet of grain and high fructose corn syrup came to dominate the American diet. The vegetarians, emboldened by centuries of successful manipulation and weakened in their anemia-addled state resulting from a burgerless diet, became lazy. Then, over 200 years after the initial document's disintegration, a burger renaissance began in the same town where it was first discovered. Hundreds of new burgers were created in Philadelphia, yet while many of them can be good, only one is the perfect burger. Our quest is simple: to find the burger from Franklin's original writings, the best burger in Philadelphia.