It all started innocently enough. J.D. Vance, the rising political star who had been crisscrossing the country on the campaign trail, made a pit stop at Primanti Bros.’ North Versailles location. What could have been a quick bite and a handshake with local supporters turned into a full-blown political scandal. Vance was met not with warm Pittsburgh hospitality, but with a manager who declared, “This isn’t a campaign stop, and J.D.’s not allowed in here.”

What followed was the kind of uproar usually reserved for a bad call in a Steelers game. Videos of the incident went viral, and within hours, social media was on fire with the hashtag #BoycottPrimanti. Trump supporters, conservatives, and even some confused sandwich enthusiasts who weren’t sure why they were mad but were nonetheless determined to express their outrage, began calling for a mass boycott of the chain.

Adding insult to injury, it was revealed that just weeks earlier, Primanti Bros. had hosted a private event for Vice President Kamala Harris, going so far as to clear out paying customers to make room for her entourage. The hypocrisy was too much for some to stomach, and the boycott snowballed into a full-on political sandwich war.

As the boycott gained traction, Primanti Bros.’ financial situation began to unravel faster than a poorly wrapped sandwich. The chain, which had long been a fixture of Pittsburgh’s culinary scene, suddenly found itself in the crosshairs of a politically charged boycott that showed no signs of slowing down.

By the end of the day, Primanti Bros. had reportedly lost close to $20 million in revenue, a staggering sum that no amount of extra fries could fix. The chain, which operates 43 locations nationwide, was hit hardest in its Pennsylvania locations, where loyal Trump supporters made up a significant portion of their customer base. One manager of a downtown Pittsburgh location described the scene as “eerily quiet,” noting that they hadn’t seen foot traffic this low since the great coleslaw shortage of 1985.

“I used to have a line out the door,” said one employee. “Now it’s just me, a broom, and a pile of unsold sandwiches.”

The financial fallout didn’t stop with lost customers. Primanti Bros. also suffered the swift departure of several major sponsors. French Fry Fanatics, the supplier of the chain’s signature crispy fries, was the first to announce they were pulling their partnership.

“We believe in the power of fries to unite people, not divide them,” French Fry Fanatics said in a statement. “Unfortunately, recent events at Primanti Bros. do not align with our values, and we will no longer be supplying their locations.”

Next to leave was Iron City Beer, a Pittsburgh staple that had been partnering with Primanti Bros. for years. “We stand with our customers,” read the beer company’s statement. “And if our customers are leaving, so are we.”

By the time the third sponsor, Heinz, followed suit, it became clear that Primanti Bros. wasn’t just losing customers—it was losing everything that made it a Pittsburgh institution.

As news of Primanti Bros.’ massive financial losses spread, reactions were mixed. On one side, Trump supporters celebrated the boycott as a victory for their cause. “We hit them where it hurts—right in their sandwich profits!” declared one supporter on X, formerly known as Twitter. “If they won’t respect our values, they won’t get our money. Plain and simple.”

Others were less celebratory but equally determined. “It’s about time companies learn they can’t treat half the country like garbage and expect us to keep giving them our business,” said another user. “This boycott is working. Primanti Bros. messed with the wrong crowd.”

Meanwhile, some more neutral observers expressed surprise that a sandwich shop could become the epicenter of such a political firestorm. “I never thought I’d see the day where I have to pick sides over a sandwich,” mused one Pittsburgh local. “But I guess this is where we are now. It’s 2024, after all.”

In a desperate attempt to salvage their crumbling empire, Primanti Bros. issued several statements aimed at quelling the controversy. “Primanti’s has always been a place where everyone is welcome, no matter their political affiliation,” the company said in one statement. “We deeply regret the misunderstanding that occurred with Senator Vance’s visit, and we are working to ensure that something like this never happens again.”

Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. The public wasn’t in the mood for apologies, and many saw the company’s statements as too little, too late. “A statement isn’t going to fix this,” tweeted one disgruntled customer. “You can’t just ignore half your customer base and then expect everything to go back to normal.”

Even an attempt by Primanti Bros. to host a “Free Sandwich Day” for all customers backfired when only a handful of people showed up, many of them reportedly unaware of the boycott and just there for the free food.

With nearly $20 million in losses and a public relations disaster on their hands, the future of Primanti Bros. looks as uncertain as ever. Some insiders have suggested that the chain may be forced to close several locations or, at the very least, undergo a major rebranding effort in an attempt to win back customers.

Others believe that Primanti Bros. may never recover from the boycott, with some speculating that the chain could be bought out by a larger corporation looking to salvage what’s left of the once-iconic brand. Rumors have even swirled that fast food giant Chick-fil-A is considering a buyout, though nothing has been confirmed.

For now, Primanti Bros. is left grappling with the reality that one misstep—one denied sandwich—can turn into a political and financial disaster of epic proportions. What started as a beloved Pittsburgh institution has now become the poster child for the pitfalls of mixing food and politics.

The boycott of Primanti Bros. serves as yet another reminder that in today’s hyper-polarized climate, no business is safe from the fallout of political controversy. What was once just a sandwich shop is now a battleground for political ideologies, with millions of dollars and countless sandwiches caught in the crossfire.

As Primanti Bros. faces the uncertain road ahead, one thing is clear: in the world of political sandwiches, there are no winners—only empty tables and cold fries.

NOTE: This is SATIRE, It’s Not True.