A friend of mine had a foot cut off with a backpacking saw. He couldn't work for awhile so I volunteered to fill in for him until he got his prosthetic.
Having not worked for months myself, I waded in gingerly.
After a week I had ingratiated myself to the smiling waitresses and juanty, pencil mustachioed cooks.
One night I came in through the back door like I always do. I kept my coat closed as I walked towards the cooks, who were frantically flipping concoctions in saute pans.
Slowly, I opened my coat.
Out fell an enormous, strap on dong. Razor blades glistening, I grabbed the jiggling cock and lunged.
The cooks were trapped behind the line. I swung a straight right and caught the nearest cook directly on the chin. While he collapsed, I slit his throat with the dick of death.
Cook #2 had backed himself onto the grill, and the smell of his frying buttocks was both breakfasty and nauseating. I realized he was screaming and wondered why I hadn't heard him until now.
By this time one of the smiling waitresses came through the swishing door that separates the wait station from the kitchen.
She was assaulted by the stench from the 4 ounce portions of ass and when she looked at cook #1's raggedly slashed throat, and the copious amounts of blood splattered around she took 3 steps and her legs flew out from under her, upskirting me in the process. She hit the back of her head on the floor and that was the end of waitress #1.
I turned my attention back to cook #2. He had separated himself from the grill but had zoned out.
I realized that I had done wrong and I felt remorse. At that instant the cops burst in and shot me 20 times.
The glistening dong bounced on the tiles.
I thought I had gas but it turned out to be a swift and steady stream of blood.
FIN
