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The Fastfood Worker

Fast-food workers comer in many shapes and sizes,
To perform duties when the need arises.
We're not talking about any worker though
This one sunk to a new low.

Bob was his name:
Described by his friends, "Definitely a bane,"
Thus there is not suprise
When he decided to defend his pride.

Working at Burger King is a thankless job.
An alternative of robbing for Bob.
During one of his most busiest days,
Complete with toy exchanges needed for the weekly pay.

A customer waltzed into the joint.
Smoke trailing behind him; he intended to make a point.
"One hamburger please with 5,000 pickles."
Bob knowing the motto 'Have It Your Way; pondered if the customer had a nickel.

"What are you waiting for?" the customer asked.
"Pick up the pace," in irriatation he basked.
Full of anger Bob shouted to the chef the order.
If the customer knew what was about to happen he'd probably flee for the border.

Bob heard the oven sizzle and had the order in record time,
Concealing the burder, he did something not too kind.
For one dab of spit ecscaped his lips,
And was safely caught at the burger's hips.

Moments later re-wrapped, looking good as new.
"Thanks," the customer whispered, "Very cool."
Bob wasn't about to say anything he had his revenge.
Regret? There was only a tinge.

Conveniently there was a camcorder watching him from the side.
Yelling and firing was needed, his boss was glad to abide.
Still the damage was done,
The customer had gone home, and devoured the buns.

Fast-food workers comer in many shapes and sizes,
To perform duties when the need arises.
We're not talking about any worker though
This one sunk to a new low.



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