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The Last Straw

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I just spilled a milkshake.

I guess I got distracted by the woman’s big hair in the dining room, because it was abnormally large to say the least. But it was enough to make me lose concentration, and now I had a counter covered in pink strawberry goop that was dripping over the side and onto my shoes.

“You gotta be careful,” says a voice behind me. It was the new assistant manager Nate who was stacking to-go boxes. Thanks for the input I think to myself.

I attempt to block the mess from dripping further. He says something else, but I don’t hear him. The woman walks out the front door and I say, “Have a nice day,” but she’s already out the door, and I don’t know if she responds or not.

Someone from around the corner says she’s sending back ice-cream. It sounds like Anastasia. I would love to finish cleaning the spill, but Anastasia rings in orders pretty quick, so I get a pair of latex gloves and prepare for the onslaught.
Sure enough my screen lights up with 4 orders before I can pull my right glove on, and I immediately start with the hardest one: a banana royale, which is just a fancy name for a split. I get halfway done and she comes back and tells me it’s actually to go.

“Well ring it in that way.” I mutter.

“Well I forgot okay?” She responds defensively.

“Likely.” I can tell she’s getting heated up.

“Also, you’re ugly and I hate working with you.” I had to say that to see what she’d do.

She picks up a knife and goes for my throat, but I block her attack with a handy serving tray and she loses her balance. I kick her legs out and KAMEHAMEHA her in the face like Goku, but it has no effect. So I resort to my Spirit Bomb and destroy her along with the entire restaurant. It’s necessary sacrifice, but I realize I’m suddenly unemployed. So I reggie down to the police office and say aliens attacked and went looking for a job elsewhere.

THE END.




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