Conveyor Belt Sushi: The Rolling Menace Coming to Ruin Pflugerville

Oh, joy. Just what Pflugerville needed—another exotic dining experience to disrupt the delicate balance of our suburban utopia. Kura Revolving Sushi is rolling into town, bringing with it the terrifying spectacle of food moving on its own. I, for one, am deeply concerned. What if the conveyor belt malfunctions and sends a California roll careening into a child’s lap? What if someone mistakes the wasabi for guacamole? The chaos is unimaginable.\n\nAnd let’s talk about the cultural implications. Do we really need sushi floating past us while we’re trying to enjoy our Olive Garden breadsticks in peace? This is Texas, people. We have traditions. Like complaining about property taxes and pretending kolaches are breakfast food. Now we’re expected to embrace raw fish on a conveyor belt? Next thing you know, they’ll be serving boba tea with tapioca pearls that look suspiciously like frog eggs.\n\nBut the real outrage? The special opening hours. Noon to 9 p.m.? That’s prime time for my weekly HOA meeting where we discuss the real issues—like whether the Johnsons’ Halloween decorations were up for three days too long. How am I supposed to organize a proper boycott if the restaurant isn’t even open during my scheduled fuming hours?\n\nAnd don’t get me started on the pricing per plate. This is clearly a ploy to confuse upstanding citizens who are used to all-you-can-eat buffets where the only thing revolving is the dessert tray. What’s next? Paying by the bite? I demand a manager.\n\nIn conclusion, Pflugerville was doing just fine without innovative dining concepts. We have Chili’s. We have Whataburger. We have standards. But if you must indulge in this sushi spectacle, at least have the decency to do it quietly—preferably in another zip code.