Chapter 3............................Cooking more orders makes a Joe Corn Hungry
The next day I was still cooking chicken. The nice aroma and the beautiful looks. Heck I was even hungry. I wanted to grab the chicken by my hand and chomp it down in four seconds. But I couldn't, cause this was for the customer. Ma and Pa had this rule that I had to make the chicken first and then look at who it's for, smack dab in the serving area because I have some people that I don't like and Ma said if I find someone I don't like you're gonna probably gonna spit in their food. So if I do something bad to it,then the whole place will see.
I made the glorious chicken. Then I went out the push door carrying the tray of the chicken, I walked out to the serving area and unfolded the top of the recieipt and saw who it was for: Barry Tugly. Oh shucks, again? I hated that guy. Earlier, like an hour ago, he was there and he ordered two Mega-Chickens to-go so I made them and he bit one of them and said " Tank fou!" with a stuffed mouth and white meat blasted out of his mouth. Onto my cheeks.
I grumbled some nasty things and walked to Table 9. Barry Tugly was sitting on one of our booths. He nearly took up all of one booth seat. And that was a bit shorter than me. But of course you don't know how tall I am. Well I am 8 years old.
I placed the tray on his table and he bit it again and said, " Fank Koo!" and some more white chicken splatted on my new T-shirt. I wanted to strangle him. I wanted to cook him into a chicken and eat him. No, no, I wouldn't eat him. He has too much FAT.
I wiped off the meat and grumbled nasty things about him and walked to the kitchen. Pa said it was my break so I cooked myself a Tiny-Tot-Chicken and Uncle Bob made me some curly fries. I thanked him and took the tray and walked out the push door and into the serving area. All the tables were taken except for Table 8. The one near Barry. I mumbled. More nasty-ness.
I slammed my tray on my table, some curly fries dropped on the floor. Barry spied them and crawled onto the floor and looked at me then back at the fries on the dirty floor. Then he used his greasy-more-than-chicken hands and grabbed the fries and munched then all up and then crawled back to his booth. What a weirdo.