It was fascinating to watch the 60-something-year-old woman create my Subway Pepperoni Flatizza.

She somewhat violently plopped a regular Subway flatbread onto the preparation table, treating it like it was a ball of pizza dough. But after that she took her time and made my Flatizza with care.

Perhaps she took her time because no one was behind me in line. Or maybe she wanted to admire my dashing good looks for as long as she could because I reminded her of a long lost love.

With a tiny ladle, the cutest serving instrument I’d ever seen, she scooped up three servings of sauce and placed them in the middle of the flatbread. And then using the ladle’s head, she began spreading the sauce across the flatbread with a short raking motion that’s usually learned from office zen garden ownership.

Her glove covered hands then grabbed several slices of pepperoni. I thought those large slices would be awesome to see on the Flatizza, but then she stacked the slices, took her bread carving knife, and cut the pepperoni into strips.

“NOOOOOO!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I yelled internally, but expressed externally with a quiet sigh. But then I calmed myself down after realizing it’s still the same amount of pepperoni but just in strip form…and they were going to be covered with cheese.

Wait. What?

“NOOOOOO!!! PEPPERONI GOES ON TOP OF THE CHEESE!” I screamed on the inside, but expressed externally with the massaging of my temples.

She then sprinkled two handfuls of shredded cheese on top, creating a thick layer that would shrink while inside Subway proprietary toaster oven. While she did make my Flatizza with care, what came out of the oven looked like something that was hastily prepared by a drunk monkey.

The Flatizza was then cut into four square-ish pieces with what I believe is Subway’s proprietary Flatizza cutter and then placed into a small pizza box.

I can imagine it’s hard to look at the pictures in this post and not think, “That’s going to suck.” However, while it may not look very appetizing, I have to say I liked it.

The cheese melted nicely, was gooey, and had a indistinct cheesy flavor; the sauce had a cheap, but pleasant tangy and slightly sweet flavor; the sauce mostly hides the pepperoni’s flavor; it’s weird to see orange cheese on top of a pizza; only the edges of the mostly flavorless flatbread are somewhat crispy; and it’s not even close to being as tasty as anything from Pizza Hut, Domino’s, or Papa John’s.

Yes, I did just type, cheap sauce, mostly flavorless flatbread, very little pepperoni flavor, and not as good as anything from big pizza chains. “So how can you like it?” you’re probably asking through your monitor.

I guess the only way I can explain it is to say it’s just one of those things where so many wrongs make a right.

(Nutrition Facts – 500 calories, 230 calories from fat, 26 grams of fat, 12 grams of saturated fat, 60 milligrams of cholesterol, 1340 milligrams of sodium, 43 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, and 26 grams of protein.)

Item: Subway Pepperoni Flatizza
Purchased Price: $4.00
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Subway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Despite all the negatives, I liked it. So many wrongs seem to have made a right. Sauce has a pleasant tangy and slightly sweet flavor. Cheese was melted nicely and gooey.
Cons: Cheap tasting sauce. Flatbread is crispy only on the edges. Pepperoni is masked by the sauce. Weird to see orange cheese on a pizza and pepperoni below the cheese. Not even close to being as good as anything from a big pizza chain.

We live in an interconnected world. Elvis walked into the White House and shook Nixon’s hand. Abbott and Costello met Frankenstein. Steve Urkel annoyed both Uncle Jesse and Patrick Duffy. I once sat in a Ford Explorer with Eddie Bauer logos on it. We’re all star stuff, guys. It’s exciting.

When titans meet, it’s a reminder that we’re all on the same team, that we all indeed occupy the same universe. Tommy Lee Jones was Al Gore’s college dorm mate, y’all. Betty Crocker uses Hershey chocolate in its mixes! The Justice League fought the Avengers. Doritos Locos Tacos!

So when Subway unveiled its Fritos Chicken Enchilada Melt, I was eager to get one in my maw. I mean, I had already been manually putting chips on my sandwich for years. Wait. Sorry. We’ve already been manually putting chips on our sandwiches for years. (Right? Right?! High fives all around.) Now two giant corporations are joining forces to put chips on a sandwich.

They have research teams and focus groups and everything. This thing should be a masterpiece. I bought a lobster bib and scratched out the picture of a lobster and replaced it with a drawing of a smiling lobster eating a sandwich with chips on it. I’m ready. I’m cheering in my seat.

Unfortunately, I am loath to report that Subway and Frito-Lay came together and birthed the half-breed antichrist of sandwiches. It gurgled and writhed in pain and asked me to put it out of its misery, and after I ate it, I asked the same of myself.

The tragic journey begins in the Subway assembly line. “I want to make it look like the poster,” I say. The sandwich artist grumbles something incoherent and conjures a foot-long flatbread from the ether. The chicken comes pre-sauced and looks all wet. Two (2!) small bags of Fritos are dumped onto the sandwich. “Whoa, I’ve never seen that before,” cries out the guy behind me in line. Lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and pickles are the ingredients I saw on the poster, so that’s what I get.

The Fritos Chicken Enchilada Melt looks weak. The flatbread gives it a limp disposition, and it’s wider than the regular loaves, so the ingredients look scattered like they were dumped into the bottom of a garbage can. Taking the first bite, though, is not bad. The flatbread is chewy and floury like a pita. Going forward, however, the hot part of the sandwich has warmed over the should-be-cold lettuce and tomato (Gross!). The slightly sour pickles tasted out of place in what is, I guess, a Subway version of a soft taco.

The barely spicy enchilada sauce on the chicken has rendered the chicken tasteless—the protein is purely there for texture. Worst of all, the Fritos have strangely become soggy in the five-minute journey from bag to sandwich to mouth. It kind of tastes like if you crushed up a Double Decker Taco Supreme (with chicken, hold the sour cream) into a sandwich bag and then left it in the sun for an hour. The sickly nuclear warmth of the concoction stuck to my stomach for a good 45 minutes.

Elvis died on a toilet and Nixon had to resign from being president. Frankenstein has to be depicted in I, Frankenstein. Steve Urkel never worked again. Eddie Bauer filed for bankruptcy. Titans meet but sometimes the story doesn’t always have a happy ending. Sometimes it’s more like when Freddy meets Jason or when Alien fights Predator, or like whenever they try to make a movie with Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn. Sometimes it just ruins chips on a sandwich.

(Nutrition Facts – 6 inch sandwich – 580 calories, 240 calories from fat, 26 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 20 milligrams of cholesterol, 1170 milligrams of sodium, 60 grams of carbohydrates, 7 grams of fiber, 9 grams of sugar, 25 grams of protein.)

Item: Subway Fritos Chicken Enchilada Melt
Purchased Price: $6.50
Size: Footlong
Purchased at: Subway
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: Flatbread was flat, chewy.
Cons: Fritos do not stand up well to sauce. Pre-sauced meats at Subway are all gross. Cold parts of sandwich were warm. Badly constructed, looks like a mess.