The Fat Cat is the New Brunswick grease-truck sub that does not choose a protein: it puts a cheesesteak and chicken fingers in the same roll, then adds mozzarella sticks and French fries on top of both. Most Fats pick one fried center. This one stacks two, which is the defining decision, because a chopped griddle beef and a battered chicken tender are different textures and different jobs and the sandwich insists on carrying them at once along with its own sides. Lettuce and tomato go in too, and the result is a sub that is two sandwiches arguing inside one roll.
The craft is in load order and speed. The cheesesteak comes off the flat-top chopped and bound by its own cheese, the chicken fingers come out of the fryer with a shell that is already starting to lose against the steam in a closed roll, and both go in hot with no time to spare. The sub roll is the structural limit: it has to be a long, sturdy length with a crust that holds a heavy, doubly-fried, greasy load without tearing along the side, and it is the only thing keeping the cheesesteak and the fingers from going separate ways. The fries are packed as filling and as a starchy floor that absorbs the grease the meat sheds before it reaches the bread, and the mozzarella sticks are the binding layer, their molten interior knitting the two proteins together as the whole thing settles. The lettuce and tomato are the single cold, wet counter in a sandwich that is otherwise entirely hot and fried, and they keep it from reading as one heavy note.
The variations are the rest of the truck menu. The Fat Darrell drops the steak for marinara-dipped chicken fingers; the Fat Moon trades chicken for bacon and adds ketchup; the broader Fat sandwich format keeps generating builds by swapping the fried center. Each is its own specific stack and deserves its own article rather than being crowded in here.