Post by TFP on Mar 13, 2008 13:42:50 GMT -4
Walking down the sidewalk, Chris Tougher is with his wrestling manager Rob Colins. Dressed in shorts and a muscle shirt, Chris is looking to get some major tannage on his body, he wants to get some definition on his skin so that his muscles look more appealing to people. But once he takes that shirt off, he'll look like a major douche to a bunch of people. All brown on his arms and neck and a sickly pale white color on his chest. People will think he's something weird, like half ginger or something. It's convincing, too. His dad has red hair and other traits of a ginger while his mother is a bikini model with brown hair and tannable. It looks like this is another case for Robert Stack to research for Unsolved Mysteries.
"I'm hungry as fuck, Rob. Where's a good restaurant around this block, you're usually in this part of the neighborhood."
"I don't know, there's a bunch of fucked up places. The names are just really weird."
"Like what place? McDonalds? KFC?"
"No, there's Steaming Weiners: the Hot Dog Store and there's Tosser's: the Salad Bar."
"Wow, those are pretty fucked up names. It's a good thing that I don't have to live in this part of the city, eh?"
"Yeah. So where do you want to get something to eat?"
"I'll say Steaming Weiners, the Salad Bar just sounds gay. Seriously, who would eat there? Aging Hippie Liberal Douches?"
As the two reach a restaurant at the corner of the block, they enter Steaming Weiners. The place is somewhat empty with the exception of half a dozen or so people eating their hot dogs and other hot dog related meals. Chris and Rob walk to the front of the counter since the non-existant line is empty and they take a look at the menu that is plastered above the kitchen on the wall. Studying them, they look at the meals.
"The number one seems good. The Hot Mac, a seven-inch hot dog put on a warm bun."
"I'll probably have the Weinerama, a dozen normal hot dogs put on a plate and covered in melted cheese."
"You're just asking for a heart-attack, aren't you?"
"No, I just want something that's going to hit the spot and make me feel really good inside."
"Look at number five, the Cluster-stuffed Weiner. I guess that it's a large hot dog filled with cheese, ketchup and all sorts of things. I guess the height of the hot dog is four inches tall, four inches wide and eight inches long. Talk about a chud of a meal."
After awhile, the cashier looks at the two and asks for their orders.
"Yeah, I'll have the Weinerama and my friend here will have the Hot Mac."
"That'll be thirteen dollars and twenty-one cents, please."
Chris digs in his pocket and hands the cashier a ten and five dollar bill. He hands them their change and the two walk to a table and wait for a while, then the guy comes around in about thirty seconds, setting their meals down on a tray. The service in this place is ultra fast and it probably makes you wonder if it is healthy at all. But, whatever, it seems good enough for Chris and Rob to eat and so they make the best of this meal for whatever reason.
"I'm hungry as fuck, Rob. Where's a good restaurant around this block, you're usually in this part of the neighborhood."
"I don't know, there's a bunch of fucked up places. The names are just really weird."
"Like what place? McDonalds? KFC?"
"No, there's Steaming Weiners: the Hot Dog Store and there's Tosser's: the Salad Bar."
"Wow, those are pretty fucked up names. It's a good thing that I don't have to live in this part of the city, eh?"
"Yeah. So where do you want to get something to eat?"
"I'll say Steaming Weiners, the Salad Bar just sounds gay. Seriously, who would eat there? Aging Hippie Liberal Douches?"
As the two reach a restaurant at the corner of the block, they enter Steaming Weiners. The place is somewhat empty with the exception of half a dozen or so people eating their hot dogs and other hot dog related meals. Chris and Rob walk to the front of the counter since the non-existant line is empty and they take a look at the menu that is plastered above the kitchen on the wall. Studying them, they look at the meals.
"The number one seems good. The Hot Mac, a seven-inch hot dog put on a warm bun."
"I'll probably have the Weinerama, a dozen normal hot dogs put on a plate and covered in melted cheese."
"You're just asking for a heart-attack, aren't you?"
"No, I just want something that's going to hit the spot and make me feel really good inside."
"Look at number five, the Cluster-stuffed Weiner. I guess that it's a large hot dog filled with cheese, ketchup and all sorts of things. I guess the height of the hot dog is four inches tall, four inches wide and eight inches long. Talk about a chud of a meal."
After awhile, the cashier looks at the two and asks for their orders.
"Yeah, I'll have the Weinerama and my friend here will have the Hot Mac."
"That'll be thirteen dollars and twenty-one cents, please."
Chris digs in his pocket and hands the cashier a ten and five dollar bill. He hands them their change and the two walk to a table and wait for a while, then the guy comes around in about thirty seconds, setting their meals down on a tray. The service in this place is ultra fast and it probably makes you wonder if it is healthy at all. But, whatever, it seems good enough for Chris and Rob to eat and so they make the best of this meal for whatever reason.