I asked for the manager, now I regret it
When I was a little girl at the age of Becky, my momomama spoke at me with a tear in her eye. "Daughter of mine, do not be afraid to ask for the manager, for everything is their fault." I nodded my head in agreement and fear. Ever since that fateful day, I've scoured the realm for a manager perfect enough for my completely average and reasonable expectations. All establishments have failed my trials. All except for one.
As I walked into the establishment, I was greeted with the usual wails and cries of the children taking customers orders. I pushed the shriveled hag out of their seat, and sat down.
"Oof" he scream, and collapse onto the floor, reducing to dust. I summoned the waiter and the child spoke. "Süni karlfon jaccKovii?" "Give me the salmon and eggs!" I politely demanded, slamming my speckled fists on the table. The infant screeched, running towards the kitchen.
When the child returned, his face was soaked in a wretched orange fluid. He put my meal on the table, and ran out of the building. Before he could get far, he was shot down by the guards. I turned my attention back to my yummy yummy delicious meal-food. As I was about to consume, I had a realization, an epiphany, a moment of cognizance. My salmon had four fingers! It's supposed to have three! I threw the plate aside, gagging in disgust! I knew who I had to speak to.
I marched many miles to reach to counter from the table. Behind the counter was a dry crumpled man. "Sir! My food was horribly prepared!" I said responsibility. He stared at me and emitted a voice from his skin. "No, the food is not flawed, you are." The hollow man spoke. I shook, fuming with unbridled rage. "Let me speak to your manager!" I stated calmly. He twisted his body, snapping his skin. He motioned for me to follow him. He led me behind the counter, and into the kitchen. Inside was an empty room that seemed to span forever, covered in eternal shadow. In the center of this constantly expanding room was a tall, greasy figure. He extended his neck towards my direction until his face was inches away from mine.
"Why have you come to me, mortal?" He whispered softly. "Your food tastes like burned porridge, and your service was terrible!" I stated. The manager's neck returned to it's proper spot on his body. His arms extended and grabbed me, with his large crooked lemon scented fingers wrapped around my supple body. "You have plagued my business for the final time, mortal. Begone Karen!" He applied pressure to my body, crushing me into oblivion. I died shortly after.
The end.
Credited to balgingii
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