No longer content with the power owed him as the sovereign lord of Flavortown, royal bearer of the Frosted Tips, Guy Fieri has been outed by those in the know as a dark wizard and secret Illuminati king. And in case the intersection between food and wizard-based conspiracy theories didn’t tip you off immediately, he’s also become the latest figure to be swept up in the tumorous, toxic theory-lump know as “Pizzagate,” which, despite losing the support of radio host Alex Jones, still manages to thrive in the danker corners of the internet.
Fieri got himself involved in the non-existant child sex trafficking ring through his Diners, Drive-Ins, And Dives Food Network show, which sent him to Washington D.C.’s Comet Ping Pong Pizza as part of his ongoing quest to shout at people with his mouth full of sauce in every major city in the country. While there, he met with owner James Alefantis, the alleged center of Comet’s dark workings. In the segment, Alefantis tips off careful viewers about his evil plots by noting that he sometimes cans tomatoes in his basement, a very strange thing for a pizza restaurateur to do.
But to be fair—just this once, we swear—to the Pizzagaters, it’s not like we wouldn’t come to some weird theories of our own when confronted with Guy Fieri, a human-shaped chili dog who looks like he spends his free time Photoshopping different denim jackets onto his back. (To end the “being fair” part, though, we can’t imagine those theories would involve using his TV show to pass secret messages about “oysters” being code for kidnapped human children.)
The cases against Fieri cover a pretty wide range, from what we’re grudgingly (and relatively) forced to call the hypothetically possible—i.e., that he has some knowledge of wrongdoings happening at Comet Ping Pong, and publicized them on his show—all the way up to “Guy Fieri is an Illuminati Kodiak king who has an immortal wife who lives inside Kim Kardashian.” As with so much of the “alt-right’s” bullshit, the different levels of irony, malice, and sheer, delusional paranoia involved here are like the sauces on one of the burgers Fieri gets paid to ritualistically impale himself on: There’s no separating them at this point, and they pretty much all taste like shit.