Natural Chicken Griller Chapter 2

  Chapter 2......................................Joe Corn burns his,

  I still am Joe Corn. Still, no man can replace meh. Cause I be the king of Chicken grilling. Sunday morning, working at The Chicken. I was in the kitchen, with my Uncle Bob who helped season the chicken. I looked out the little glassless window where I put the orders and saw Ma and Pa arguing with some fancy-looking lady. I leaned in and listened to what they were saying.

" He is only 8! How can he be man-handling uh steam blowin' hot scorching grill on his own?" The fancy lady said whipping her fox fur scarf in the air.

" He is doin' fine," said Ma giving the Fancy Lady her " No cookies at midnight" look.

" He's only 8! I bet this chicken is no good." The Fancy lady said eying my fresh batch of chicken on her table.

Pa sighed and said to the Fancy Lady something I couldn't hear. I leaned in a bit closer cause I'm dang Joe Corn and I can listen in to what ever I want. I leaned I bit closer and then, Hiisssss! The grill burned my hand. I yelped. All the customers looked at me. I quickly thought,

" Just dropped a spatula on my foot! No big deal!"

They went back to eating.

I looked at my hand. It was red and still steamy. I put it under the sink. Hissss. It started like that but after a while it got better. I put a Band-aid on it and began cooking chicken for some guy named Barry Tugly. I cooked the order and brought it to the guy. I looked at him. He had oily slicked back hair, almost balding. He wore a white man tank-top and gray gym shorts. His face was pudgy and fat. He was fat. His stomach flab bounced out of the shirt and made little wrinkles. I handed him his food. He grabbed the whole chicken and began crunching on it. His hands were even more greasy than the chicken. Pshh, Barry Tugly? More like Very Ugly.

The End

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