A Guide to Making the Grossest Super Bowl Spread Ever

Hello, Internet. What would you say if I told you that you could make an embarrassing amount of money by exploiting the orgy of capitalism that will define this year's Super Bowl? You would like that, right? Of course you would, but the path to obscene riches isn't to dump a bunch of money into a prop bet on Marshawn Lynch grabbing his dick, no, the real secret is hosting a Super Bowl party for the ludicrously rich. Don't believe me? Then consider the case of New York City's Old Homestead Steakhouse, which is charging $4,900 for foie gras and caviar smothered chicken wings. That is plenty enough evidence of the scam's viability, but I'd be remiss if I didn't bring up the $35,000 Super Bowl party being hosted by L'Ermitage Beverly Hills. Clearly, there's money to be made off wealthy folks who would rather spend their stacks on Super Bowl parties than, say, alleviating massive socioeconomic inequality.

However, it's going to take a lot more than chips and dip to get your well-heeled victims friends to attend—in fact, it will take something that matches the obscene grotesquery they so freely revel in. The solution here is obvious: build a fucking stadium made out of rich people food. I mean, what's more American than that? Remember, rich people love America. It's why they spend so much time ruining America.

Let's begin.

Like any good stadium construction project, the key here is to be as cheap as possible with materials and net the difference. For example, tell your wealthy guests that this stadium was built with American-sourced steel and adheres to the strictest environmental guidelines. This will be for show, of course. What I've actually done is pocket the money and built the entire thing out of tinfoil, graham crackers, corn starch paste, and ranch dressing. It'll last for enough time for me to get out of any sort of legal trouble and move on to the next party. Observe:

It's a shining beacon of sports commerce! My only regret is that I didn't crowdfund the cost so I could be taking the money directly from the populace like a real stadium construction project. Perhaps you can take advantage where I have failed.

Next, we'll need to actually put a field down. Again, let's half-ass this thing so we don't have to invest anything more than we need to:

Most people will want to use guacamole for their field, which is okay, I guess. But here's what I say: avocados are expensive! We're not charging people tens of thousands of dollars per head to give them FRESH VEGETABLES. No, what we'll do instead is take a few pieces of bread, some corn starch paste, and dye it green. When the paste hardens, you'll have sealed in the delicious flavors of the bread with a vaguely-moldlike frosting. Now, lay it in the middle of the stadium like so:

Now, if we're going to fool dumb rich people into paying for our party, we're going to need some stereotypical food for them. Of course, you and I know that there are a ton of great ways to make fantastic and delicious food on a budget, but that's not what we're here to do. Instead, let's just throw fancy words and labels at the wealthy and reap the benefits! We shall begin with a favorite of the ruling class.

Does anything drain the pockets of a hungry corporate executive faster than the promise of wildly expensive Japanese beef? There's tales of what goes into raising Kobe beef cattle: classical music, massages, and only the best grains. It's almost assuredly false, but don't worry! Rich people LOVE stories of heavily-pampered animals, and will pay dearly to feast upon the flesh of an animal stuffed with milk, honey, and oats. Let's just give the people what they want. But, why go through all the trouble of raising cattle when you can just stuff all the food directly into the meat? You're just accelerating the natural process! It's the American way. So go for it. Stuff as many Honey Nut Cheerios into some cheap meat. It's like filling a steak stocking! Next, we'll move on to actually cooking it.

Now, there's no better compliment to cereal than milk, so we're going to boil our steak in it to really let that dairy soak in. It's a cyclical return to nature—milk going back into cow. Rich foodie people eat that shit up. And yeah, you COULD boil it on a stove … or you can save yourself some time and microwave it!

Damn. I'd pay upwards of four to five dollars for this steak. You'll easily be able to pawn this off on an investment banker for four to five thousand. Cover this and set it aside for later. It's time to move on.

The wealthy LOVE truffles. They're exclusive, they have ridiculous origin stories involving pigs, and their cost lets you tell your friends "I have nothing better to do than purchase a bunch of fungus. Praise me, for I am the reason no one in this country can afford healthcare!" How could we charge tens of thousands of dollars for our Super Bowl party without these magnificent mushrooms? They're going to be a bit lonely by themselves, though. I mean, our beef was one of a kind, so our other dishes need to be as well. You know what else rich people like? SAFFRON.

Well, more importantly, rich people like to THINK they're eating saffron, which is easy because saffron is expensive and functionally turns food orange and little else. I know something that's just as good as that and a ton cheaper!

Let's dump all this expensive shit in a pan. We're going to fry these up all nice and … well, orange. It's going to look like a melted road cone in this skillet when I'm done with it.

Look at all of that saffron. Add another zero onto the price to ensure your visitors know just how much you dumped into the truffles. Sure, that means you're going to be charging another three average American salaries per ticket, but can there ever truly be a price on this kind of art? Your visitors all have trust funds built from the backs of the proletariat! They deserve to indulge every once in a while. Which means always. Anyway, let that pan simmer for about 20 minutes, set it aside once it's done, and move on to the third piece of our party platter.

You can't have a gathering of Monopoly Dude Stereotypes without a big bowl of caviar. I've never actually had caviar before because my grubby and calloused worker fingers could never handle something so exotic and delicate. What I can do, however, is look it up on the internet and bullshit from there.

Oh, it's just fish eggs? Shit, I got that.

Swedish! That means it's European, and rich people LOVE EUROPEAN ANYTHING. Be careful, however, as they might turn on you if you tell them exactly which country the fish are from. Sweden has progressive social policies that benefit everyone, not just the rich. Your guests have fought their entire life to inherit their wealth! You can't expect them to just hand it over to the poors, right? In any case, toss the fish and eggs into another pan:

Ah, hell, there's eggshell in it. Eh, just don't tell them. Just mix it all up instead. Also make sure the fire is set for "inferno" so it'll melt those fish faster. You're on a schedule here!

Of course, an oil executive at the party may say to you: "Sir, this caviar is a bit like an omelette." to which you can reply that they are wrong, and that the price of oil is falling so low that they're going to need to start layoffs or take a hit to their bottom-line. They'll ignore the caviar and run out the door to draft the severance paperwork.

With the naysayers out of the way, you will be left to enjoy the finished product.

With all of the food complete, you're now ready to build your stadium of culinary extravagance! Begin by positioning the beef in a central location. Much like the real Super Bowl, only the fattest and most decadent lumps of meat will get 50-yard line seats here.

With the meat in place, we'll need to surround it with a colorful dressing of caviar, truffles, and Skittles. The caviar represents the hodgepodge of private wealth that can afford to attend such a lush event. The truffles are the entitled media personalities and celebrities, wallowing in their own significance and frightening orange glaze. The Skittles Brand Candied Sugar Orbs represent an opportunity to make this even more gross. Also: corporations.

You don't think we're done yet, do you? We still have to deal with the cornerstone of any good party: alcohol!

As you can see, we've left the edges of our stadium open to pour in the most expensive, ridiculous thing you can buy into it. As fetal blood is likely unavailable, we'll need to do the next best thing. We need to make our own champagne. Here are the ingredients:

Champagne is easy to make. All you need is alcohol (Malört), some fizz (cherry seltzer water), and ACTUAL MONEY. Of course, for this experiment, you're not going to want to let on that you're using filthy five dollar bills, but you also don't want to cut into your magnificent profits to give them anything bigger. How do you solve this conundrum? You destroy the evidence. Let's blend it all together.

After a few pulses, you should be able to whip that cash into actual, drinkable fluid. Sure, there might be a few scraps here or there, but no one's going to be able to put together an entire serial number. Unless you're going to melt down pure gold bars and serve it in a flute, this is the closest anyone will ever get to actually being able to shit money, which is the dream of every rich person out there.

Once it's complete, pour it into each corner of the stadium:

And with that, you've done it. You have a stadium's worth of every rich asshole in America, who will throw you cartoon bags with dollar signs printed on them to get in. Sure, maybe they'll find out you've hoodwinked them soon afterwards, but if you play your cards right, you could be halfway to Mexico by the time they can call in their personal armies.

A Note from the Editor-in-Chief: Wasting food is bad. Wasting money to waste food is worse. Wasting money to waste food with wasted money mixed into it is perhaps worse still. Doing so in the name of anti-capitalist performance art food porn doesn't quite wipe the moral slate clean. With that and my conscience in mind, I'll be making a personal contribution to my local food bank. Feel free to consider doing the same. It's good for you.