Postby Prospero101 » 13 Apr 2014, 20:21
I'm sorry, you're what, fourteen?
How fucking dare you. How fucking goddamn shitass cunting dare you, you little squirt. I took a shit bigger than you this morning. How DARE you presume to tell me how to do my shitty dishwashing from your ivory tower of the goddamn grill.
ALL YOU FUCKING DO IS PUT SLABS OF MEAT ON A HOT PIECE OF METAL. No,I am not exaggerating or speaking in ignorance of the fry cook's trade. I can see you from my station, you wee little cunt. Don't you fucking DARE yell at me again to run all the way across the goddamn kitchen to go get you your knife or your goddamn spatula because you're too fucking lazy to set up your station when your shift starts. Don't you fucking DARE stack sixteen thousand metal tubs full of cheese and marinara and batter and god knows WHAT ELSE on top of my perfectly clean plates and tell me to be done in twenty minutes.
DON'T. YOU. FUCKING. DARE.
It's all over but the crying. And the taxes.
"Perfectionism might look good in his shiny shoes, but he's kind of an asshole and no one invites him to their pool parties."