My parents used to watch cockfighting in the bedroom when they thought we were asleep.
I'd hear my mother excitedly talking about how much she enjoyed cocks as they jumped around on the bed.
What surprised me though was, when we went to Spain she mentioned how cruel she thought bullfighting was. I never confronted her about the hypocrisy though.
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I finally did it. I out-pizza'd the Hut
I finally did it. I out-pizza'd the Hut. It was the greatest mistake of my life.
After years of perfecting my recipe, I made my way down to the local hut, fresh-baked pizza pie in hand. "Try this," I told the kid working the counter. He did, and he had to agree that it was better than anything Pizza Hut had to offer. Soon, the entire store, customers included, was feasting on my delicious pie. The manager walked over, grabbed a slice, and took a bite. I look at him, anticipation rising. This was the boss, the local fief lord of the Hut. His approval meant more to me than all the rest combined. He took a bite and nodded. "I'll be damned," he said, "you really did it. You out-pizza'd the Hut. Shame." Shame? What did he mean by tha- the manager pulled a gun out from behind his apron and shot the nearest customer in the head. "We have a Code Jalapeño," he said into his wrist as he executed the remaining customers. "I repeat, we have a Code Jalapeño." The ground was slick with blood. The kid working the counter choked out his dying breath as the manager turned to me. "You just had to do it motherfucker. You just had to out-pizza the Hut." He shoved the gun in my face. I was too scared to fight, too scared to run. The manager pulled the trigger.
A click. The gun was empty. I threw a chair at the manager and scrambled out of the Pizza Hut, not even bothering to see if my missile hit its mark. I was closely pursued by the manager, who had gotten his hands on a deadly sharp pizza cutter. I suspected in his hands it would cut more than pizza. Somehow, I was able to get into my car and speed off, the manager cursing my existence as I left him behind. I took a deep breath. The manager was clearly psychotic. Yes, that was it, just a crazy man with a gun. It had to be. My phone rang. Sister. I picked it. "They're dead, she sobbed. They're all dead. M-mom, dad, Chris, Bill. Dead. They killed them all." I could barely understand her, so great were her sobs. "What do you mean? Where are you?" I asked urgently. "How is this possi-" a single gunshot sounded through my phone's speakers. Silence. Then, I heard a man's voice. "No one out-pizzas the Hut." He hung up. I drove down the empty county road, mind blank. I had nothing. They killed my family. I was alone.
At that moment I knew what I had to do. They took everything from me. Well then, I would take everything from them. Pizza Hut was so terrified of being out-pizza'd, they forgot there's one thing worse than a man with a recipe: A man with nothing to lose. I'll give them a limited time offer they won't be able to refuse: two bullets for the price of one.
With a free side order of pain.
Leifman, please go back to work in the salt plant
twitchquotes:
Stop it, guys. I'm Leifman's sister, and mother of our beautiful little daughter, Leifgirl. The spam and constant harassment in this chat is driving my beloved Leifman insane. Since he became moderator, he's spending all his time here, and can't provide for his family, anymore. Please, Leifman, get back to work in our salt plant, we need the money.
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Kripp
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Best in the west coming through
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♿ Make some room ♿ Best in the west coming through ♿
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EU vs NA
The year is 2043 Covid variant phi beta epsilon is ravaging 0.0026% of the population
The year is 2043 Covid variant phi beta epsilon is ravaging 0.0026% of the population, you go outside for your government mandated 30 minute exercise, it's 1 a.m. not the best time, but they alternate your schedule so eventually everyone does get some sunlight. You quadruple mask and put on your plastic helmet. You gaze longingly at the sky. A man riding his bicycle points his flashlight at you "Why aren't you doing your stretches and cardio?" He asks, you recognize him as your neighbor (maybe, it's been some time since you last saw anyone). "It's because of people like you not obeying that the lockdowns have been extended another 4 years." He mumbles through his layers of masks. He reports you to AlphabetGoogle and your social credit score drops 5 points, good luck buying bread this week.