I’m coming to you live from my workplace cafeteria where I was intending to heat up my lunch of a container I found at the back of my refrigerator containing what I believe to be meat of some kind. However, the room is full today. There is a 3 deep line at both microwaves. On the left someone is cooking a pheasant they hit with their Toyota Tundra on the way in this morning complete with a remoulade made from toilet water and bodily fluids. And on the right a hazmat team is cleaning up an explosion of the office cook’s homemade chicken corn and yellow cake uranium soup.
Next to the microwaves Tall Dave and Short Dave are making a fresh pot of coffee. It’s a blend Dave bought on a trip to an African country that has since changed its name six times. Dave refers to it as “Dave’s Midnight Special”. The rest of the office calls it “That Shitty Coffee that Gives Everyone Diarrhea”. Dave drank some of Dave’s coffee and loved it so now Dave and Dave are close friends. When Dave drinks a cup it makes Dave happy which makes Dave feel good that he could be such joy into Dave’s life. Aaaaaaaand . . . there’s the smell. Wow.
There is also a clean-up going on in fridge number 3. Apparently Marta left a piece of her grandmother’s tree bark pie in a plastic container since last Arbor Day. The container has melted, merging with the wire metal rack of the fridge into emerging limbs. The pie inside decomposed until the cellular structure evolved into a sentient being. Three stout men are trying to remove it from the fridge but the beast is holding on, demanding to speak to a representative from the American consulate.
The hazmat team has finished and the pheasant smells like rotting plague-flesh. A fight has broken out for use of the microwaves now between a testing team who wants to heat up slices of watermelon and pepper jack cheese pizza and an ex-marine with an MRE from the Spanish-American war.