"Compliments to the chef, if I do say so myself," Eugene remarked, finishing up his sardine mac & cheese with a spicy flair. He was adorned in his chef hat and apron that said "kiss the cook". My wives grimaced in disgust, especially Lucille.
"Oh la la," I commented, pouring myself some exquisite wine. It was a nice dinner tonight. I tied my bib around my neck, ready for food. "Slave," I clapped.
Dwight, dressed in his custom made butler suit, politely gave everyone the dish. I prayed to the baseball bat gods before eating. I'm very polite, after all. The sardine mac & cheese was delicious. However, it paled in comparison to spaghetti.
"Now, we shall feast on gelato casserole," Simon announced, eating a big chunk. It consisted of: gelato, crushed oreos, fruit loops, gelato, whipped cream, donuts, kit kats, twinkies, icing, tequila sauce, and gelato on top. He collapsed after one bite. I laughed heartily, resting my feet on his disassociated body.
"Delicious, huh Carl?" I chuckled.
No response. I looked around. "Um, where's my son?" I demanded. My subjects shrugged. He was nowhere to be seen.
"I-I have no idea, baka!" Lucille exclaimed.
"OH MY GOD! WE LEFT HIM AT HILLTOP!" I screeched, clutching my bad haircut.
"AHHHHH!" Dwight screamed shrilly.
"Ugh! Now I need to formulate a plan to sneakily infiltrate and still be cool!" I groaned, rubbing my forehead.
"Fear not, Negan sama. Before the infamous zombie apocalypse, I served as a top secret spy for the international spy organization. Infiltration is of course no obstacle in my mind," Eugene interjected.
"Hehe. I thought you were a scientist," I chuckled awkwardly.
"That too, naturally," he quickly responded. I thought I saw him sweating profusely.
"All right gang! Let's head out!" I announced. We filed down the hallway like cute a** ducklings. But then, we reached a crowd of rioting slaves in the lobby. They were protesting something like, "give us food". Ugh, annoying.
The masses of slaves writhed like a fungal being, reaching for me with the intent to kill. Of course, their cages held them back. Simon poked one with a stick. The rioting was growing too much.
"Let's go, boys," I said seriously, getting into the saviormobile. I sped across the grass, lodging in the fence. It took a half hour to dislodge. But then, a serious mission.
