Posted on April 14, 2025

Police Called to Taco Bell on Cassopolis — Again

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Elkhart, IN — For the third time this month, local police were dispatched to the Taco Bell on Cassopolis Street after reports of “strange behavior, loud chanting, and one customer attempting to pay entirely in Fire Sauce packets.” The 24-hour fast food location, already infamous for its late-night chaos and spiritual energy that peaks around 1:47 a.m., has become a recurring hotspot for what officers are now casually referring to as “burrito-based incidents.” Witnesses say the scene quickly escalated into a full-blown spectacle involving someone reciting what sounded like ancient Taco Bell lore, another person trying to barter with napkin art, and at least one woman loudly demanding a chalupa “blessed by the high council of flavor.” By the time officers arrived, the atmosphere resembled a combination of comic con, food court séance, and amateur improv night — but with way more cinnamon twists.

Officers arrived on the scene to find what one officer described as “an impromptu council meeting of self-appointed nacho wizards,” complete with cloaks fashioned from drive-thru napkins and ceremonial headbands made of twisted straw wrappers. According to witnesses, the dispute began when a customer—clutching a burrito like a sacred scroll—demanded to speak to “the Minister of Crunchwraps” after being informed that breakfast was no longer being served. Tensions reportedly rose as others joined in, chanting menu items in unison and debating whether the removal of the Mexican Pizza was part of a larger government cover-up. One man stood atop a booth shouting, “Bring forth the chalupas and we shall forgive thee!” before attempting to anoint a cashier with nacho cheese.

“I don’t even know what was going on,” said night manager Stephanie Wells, who looked like she had aged five years in fifteen minutes. “They started arguing over whether the Quesarito is real or a government psyop. One guy said he saw it on the secret menu in a dream. Another swore he used to order it until the Illuminati took it away.” According to Wells, things really spiraled when someone pulled out a homemade flowchart labeled ‘Taco Bell: Truth vs Lies’ and began pointing at it with a cinnamon twist like it was a laser pointer. “At that point,” she added, “I just quietly locked the bathrooms and called the cops.”

Police did not make any arrests but did issue a formal warning to a man who claimed the Taco Bell had “wronged his ancestors” and began drawing a family tree on the soda machine in Mild sauce.

Regulars say this is just part of the location’s charm — a chaotic rite of passage for anyone brave enough to crave tacos after midnight.

“If you haven’t seen a spiritual awakening in the parking lot at 2 AM, did you even go to Taco Bell?”

— Darren L., local philosopher and part-time DoorDash driver, cradling what he claimed was “an ancient burrito of prophecy” wrapped in foil and mystery

“Last week, a guy tried to bless my nachos with a vape pen and whispered ‘may the cheese flow through you.’ I didn’t stop him. It felt right.”

— Tamika J., loyal customer and self-proclaimed Snack Shaman

“This place is like church, but with less judgment and more Baja Blast.”

— Eric M., seen meditating under the drive-thru speaker

“We don’t ask questions here. If someone’s speaking in tongues and salsa packets, you just let it happen.”

— Janice R., who brings her own folding chair to ‘observe the vibes’ on weekends

To many, it’s not just a fast-food stop — it’s a portal. A sacred ground where the beans are refried and reality is lightly toasted.

Authorities remind residents to “practice patience, respect fast food boundaries, and stop trying to summon Baja Blast spirits,” a statement that had to be repeated after someone reportedly brought a Ouija board to the condiment counter.

Police have issued additional guidance urging the public to refrain from drawing runes in Mild sauce, staging “taco seances,” or referring to the cashier as “The Chosen One.” As one officer put it, “We support late-night snacking, but please leave your cult activity at the curb.”

The official memo ends with a simple plea:

“Eat responsibly. And for the love of God, stop chanting at the soda fountain.”