I'm going to keep adding decks. It's going to kick ass. I'm going to pile up a 'wich of Dagwoodian proportions. It'll have to have a toothpick the size of a Zulu spear through the middle. I will be able to kill people with this sandwich, and that will make it taste so much better.
It will tower. It will be an edifice. People will come far and wide to marvel at my sandwich. They will breathe in the aroma of the ingredients in order to heal themselves of sicknesses, and it will work. Those trying to cure themselves of cancer will suddenly have a new lease on life, those trying to cure themselves of overeating, laziness, or something else wussy that just needs effort applied to it will be struck down with leprosy.
My sandwich will be the new messiah. It will attract followers. People will prostrate themselves before it; and at the pinnacle of this glory, this magnificient bread and meat being that has brought the people of the world together, I will eat it.
I will chew the whole thing down and lick my fingers, I will smile with delight at the stunned onlookers. I will eat their hope.
I am become death, destroyer of deckers.
It will have pepperjack.