I’m just curious. Are they Shannon’s hot dogs, and is Crystal selling them? Or the other way around? And if so, who has a larger percentage of the partnership? Because Shannon’s name is clearly far more prominent but Crystal might be doing all the work.

Tell me the story behind this (and exactly what started this all back in 1986). A free “Live at the Lyric” CD to the story I like the best. ch:


Mandee · 19 Jun ’09 at 11:29 pm

Pick me, pick me! I made a video with my story and posted it on my website ( 🙂 You’re gonna laugh so hard.

Ron Porter · 20 Jun ’09 at 12:14 am

Shannon Meyer was always quite jealous of the success his big brother Oscar (yes, the O-S-C-A-R) had in the bologna business and decided one day in May of 1986, to go off on his own, despite several pleas from Oscar, including the promise of a lucrative career driving the new Weiner-mobile. Shannon had dreams of his own and wanted to prove to Oscar that he could build a name for himself too, so he bought and painted an old UPS truck bright orange to sell hot dogs with HIS name on them. He even had a clever jingle that played from the loudspeakers that went something like, “My Franks have a first name, its S-H-A-N-N-O-N.” But that’s another long, drawn-out story with a bad ending and even worse lyrics.

Shannon did very well selling hot dogs at fairs, flea markets, tent revivals, and Elvis sightings. It was at one of these Elvis sightings that he met a stray dog that he took in and named Crystal. They were living the dream life, selling Shannon’s hot dogs and travelling all over the country until one day, as fate would have it, Crystal choked on a Oscar Meyer hot dog that someone threw away, half-eaten. Shannon was so distraught that he parked his truck next to her grave in the park and with tears in his eyes, wrote the words “by Crystal” in black paint to show that even though she was gone, he was still by her side.

Yodeling Dwarf · 20 Jun ’09 at 3:35 am

It all started with an earth-trembling sneeze. The air was clearer back in 1986, so this sneeze traveled quite a distance—all the way from the from the back of the Greyhound to the front. And it hit the bus driver with such force that he swerved, effectively missing his exit. But in doing so, he steered the Greyhound into a truck containing a shipment of orange paint, which knocked into a motor home.

Inside the motor home, two teenage sisters occupied themselves during the cross country trip while their parents sat in the front. Shannon danced to a Richard Simmons workout video while Crystal flipped through a magazine. When the paint truck hit, Shannon lost her balance and accidentally disco-posed her fist into Crystal’s face.

Meanwhile, a few hundred yards ahead a hot dog truck sat parked on the side of the road. Bob, a middle-aged man with a speech impediment caused by sampling an overheated hot dog the day before, was trying to sell a hot dog to Fred, an old man with a hearing impediment.

“These are hot dogs,” Bob said. But he sounded as though his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth.

“Your name is Hannah?” Fred said, inclining his ear.

Bob gave him a good-natured smile. “These are hot dogs.” He said it slightly louder this time.

“Eh?” Fred said in a louder voice. “Did you say Susan?”

Bob exhaled and set his teeth. “My name is Bob.”

As the discussion transpired, the Greyhound, paint truck and motor home battled for the two lanes at 70+ miles an hour. With a final screech-crunch, the three vehicles slid into a wild spin, the paint truck pinned.

Inside the swerving Greyhound, the passengers panicked.

“It’s gonna crash! It’s gonna crash!” shrieked a passenger toward the front.

“We’re all gonna die!” screamed another.

“Check out my rad mullet!” one clueless passenger bellowed into the chaos, fueled by all the excitement.

At the fast approaching hot dog truck, Fred pulled some coins out of his pocket, but dropped a penny on the ground. As he stooped over to pick it up, the three vehicle projectile struck a nearby telephone pole. The paint truck toppled into a roll, causing a tidal wave of orange paint to launch into the sky, and drench Bob’s truck. The windshield of the Greyhound shattered on impact. A mullet wig shot forth, and stuck to Bob’s chin.

Fred slowly stood up again, caught sight of Bob and jumped back in surprise. “Whoa! That’s quite a beard you’ve grown there, Veronica!”

Before Bob could object the broken telephone pole fell over and the very tip of it landed on Bob’s toe. Bob threw his head back and roared with pain, clutching his injured toe and hopping on one foot.

As Fred tried to calm Bob by pointing that his beard wasn’t spectacular enough to warrant such a celebration, the passengers of the Greyhound filed out. Crystal and Shannon tumbled out of their motor home, with death grips on each other, and constant boyfriend-related insults flying from their lips. The paint truck driver followed the Greyhound crowd to the hot dog stand where they stood in awe at Bob’s newly painted truck.

“Sorry about that.” The paint truck driver said. “Now you’re sign is covered up. Let me help. I’ve got some black and white paint in the truck. I’ll paint you a new sign.”

Bob was just recovering from the pain in his toe, but he nodded in agreement.

The truck driver fetched the paint. “What’s your name?” He asked.

“Oh, it’s Veronica.” Fred said.

“No! No! No!” Bob waved his hands in protest.

“Then what is it?”

Bob took a deep breath, knowing that he might only have one shot at this. The crowd waited in silence, all eyes on him. He cleared his throat. In the background Krystal and Veronica continued to roll over and over in the grass, making screeching noises that should have belonged to some hideous, exotic creature of the rain forest. But the crowd didn’t seem to notice.


But at that moment, Shannon grabbed a particularly substantial handful of Krystal’s hair.

“SHANNON!” Crystal screamed, drowning out Bob’s voice.

“Oh, so it’s Shannon.” the truck driver said. He took his paintbrush to the truck and started painting.

The crowd murmured amongst itself in a conversational tone.

“Oh, that’s easy,” one person said.

“Such a nice name,” another added.

“We musta been . . . um going pretty fast,” said a quiet, sheepish voice. “Pulled my . . . uh—mullet right out of my hair follicles. . .”

At this Bob nearly lost it. His face went red. He threw his hands up in the air and started muttering to himself in an over-animated tone.

“Wow,” Fred said, “Shannon sure seems grateful.”

The truck driver had “Shannon’s Hot Dogs” whipped out before Bob could convey his displeasure with a chorus of, “That’s not my name! That’s not my name!”

But eventually the crowd caught on.

“I don’t think his name’s Shannon.”

“Oh no! What is it then?”

Bob cleared his throat seven times in the following silence. He even put his finger up to gauge the wind. He took a deep breath; this time his strategy would be to yell his name at the top of his lungs.

But before he could breathe out, Crystal and Shannon rolled across the background again, Crystal pulling on Shannon’s necklace.

“CRYSTAL!!” Shannon screamed.

“Oh, okay,” the truck driver said. “I don’t have any orange paint left, but I can put ‘by Crystal’ in the corner here. The crowd nodded and murmured to one another. Bob’s gut full of air got caught in his throat. When he exhaled it sounded like a strangled scream. He jumped up and down furiously, his face nearing the shade of a chili pepper, and screamed “BOB!” over and over again, but no one understood.

“Wow,” Fred said, “I’ve never seen Crystal so happy, and that’s saying a lot. Look at him. He’s dancing with joy!”

Christopher Hopper · 21 Jun ’09 at 6:03 pm

Hey gang! I know you’ve been waiting patiently. I’m waiting to see if a few more entries come is as a number of people wrote me and said they had stories they wanted to submit. But I will award the winner by 12-midnight tonight, EST. ch:

Megan J · 21 Jun ’09 at 6:11 pm

Back in 1986 a woman named Shannon started her own hot dog business. In 1986 smoking was banned on all public transportation (true fact) so Shannon wanted to give people a positive reason to want to walk to work. Her idea being, a big juicy hot dog. Why ride the bus or subway with no food and no smoking, when you can walk and enjoy both a hot dog and a nice smoke. Also, the average income per year was only 22,400 dollars (true fact) so she knew she needed something else. She was a one man or I guess I should say one woman team. She served the area for many many years and her hot dogs became very famous. Everyone knew where to get the best Hot Dog in town. Shannons! Sadly in 2003 Shannon got very ill. She was dying of cancer (not true fact) and sadly she was going to have to close her hot dog job. She had no children and no family to leave it to. On her final day of working the stand her dear friend Crystal showed up. Now Crystal wasn’t a friend from high school, she was a friend whose mother (Mary) had been a regular at Shannons stopping by weekly since the day she opened. Crystal grew up knowing that every Thursday night was a Shannons night and at least one other time a week. As Crystal grew she changed from her regular ketchup hot dog to a mustard and sauerkraut. So on Shannons last day of work, seeing Crystal brought on a fantastic idea. Shannon knew that Crystal was in school for business and decided to ask her a very big question. Shannon asked Crystal if she would be interested in taking over her prized business, she promised to leave all of her money and assets to her to be able to manage the hot dog stand. The only thing Shannon requested is that it still be named Shannon Hot Dogs. Crystal agreed. One week later Shannon sadly passed away, Crystal wanted it known that Shannon was no longer running the business so she named it Shannons Hot Dogs by Crystal so people knew it was Crystal that was continuing the fantastic business Shannon worked so hard to build.

Michael · 21 Jun ’09 at 6:48 pm

Well the truth is that it all began as part of he movie Hot Dog 2, The sequel to Hot Dog the movie. The truck was painted to portray part of the story line to the movie (HD2 as it was code named). In HD2 the character Shannon Tweed, A Hot Dog aficionado was killed (pre Story line for HD2). Her friend from the movie wanted to pay tribute to her so when she opened her hot dog company she named it after her dearly departed friend so she could live vicariously through every hot dog sold. Its a sad story line but even better news is that they never made HD2. I don’t recommend the movie its really inappropriate and down right lousy but the hot dogs are the next best thing to kosher 🙂

Christopher Hopper · 22 Jun ’09 at 9:35 am

Man, thank you all for contributing! I loved each of these stories immensely, and found them very entertaining! Your effort is gratefully appreciated!

Mandee: fantastic video entry. That’s a first!
Ron: I always wondered where Oscar’s siblings went to.
YD: This was clearly a work of witty craziness.
Megan: Well done (true statement).
Michael: When can we expect HD3 in theaters? And DVD?

And the winner of the free “Live at the Lyric” album is…

Yodeling Dwarf for sheer depth of story, zany happenings, and all around valiant effort.

Thanks again everyone! You’re the best!


Michael · 22 Jun ’09 at 10:06 am

If we lived in Florida I would ask for a recount!!! God Bless!

Christopher Hopper · 22 Jun ’09 at 10:19 am

Michael: lol Well, I’m in NY so we tell you they way it is (and then tax you for it). Thanks for being a good sport. ch:

Yodeling Dwarf · 22 Jun ’09 at 10:35 am

Wow, thanks! It was fun reading (and watching) all the creative entries. I bet the real owner of the truck would get a kick out of these stories!

Mandee · 29 Jul ’09 at 7:48 pm

Apparently my video is quite popular these days. I have friends of friends watching it now. Who knew. Now I feel kinda silly (LOL).

Eileen · 19 May ’10 at 12:34 pm

Where can I purchase these hot dogs? I am in New York

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