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.
No comments:
Post a Comment