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She waddled through the double doors, smelling of porkfat and molded cake, making her way to the hostess stand. The hostess smiled and greeted her warmly, smile soon disappearing after getting a strong whiff of Miss Alabaster.
"Table for two as far away from smoking as possible." she grouched, the other poor, troubled soul pitifully called her husband putting about soon after behind her.
The hostess promptly sat them at a table closest to the restaurant's entry, which also bordered the retail area, cashier's counter included.
"Your server is Mary Sue and will be with you soon."
"Mary Sue?"
"Yes, Mary Sue." the hostess quickly responded, speeding off to alert the server.
That damn little tramp putting us with some 1950's reject for a server! she thought to herself, her eyes scanning over the breakfast menu with contempt and fat, bitter feelings setting in.
Almost promptly an older lady with beautiful silver hair and a small, tidy set of glasses strolled up, setting the set-up silverware beside the menus.
"What would y'all like to drink?"
"He'll have water," she said with a slight pause, "Because Lawd knows his useless ass needs anything with sweets."
"Oh...okay. What about you, ma'am?"
"I'll have a Coke with five scoops of sugar and a small saucer of bacon grease."
"We...we can't give you the bacon grease, ma'am."
Miss Alabaster glared up at Mary Sue as if to say You will get me that grease or I will rip your soul out with my chubby, sausage-like fingers!
"I'll get you that bacon grease, ma'am." Mary Sue sighed, scuttling off to fill the drink order.
Miss Alabaster, content now, unwrapped the silverware, a bit excited by the act, this liberating act that had the same appeal as Christmases of her childhood, a childhood long forgotten, but not altogether. A childhoold that was filled with candied yams, various meats, loads of sweets, and unwrapped of presents. She felt her lips begin to do something strange, twisting and contorting as she began to see the glint of silverware, an odd sensation that she'd long forgotten after gaining a good 300 or so pounds, making this once cheery strumpette into a boisterous, smelly, fat shell of a human being whose only mission in life is to bring suffering and misery to others. She had smiled.
"This...this silverware...is DIRTY!" she bellowed like a wounded beast.
She charged up to the cashier's counter, silverware in hand, her mood most befouled.
"This silverware is dirty!!!!!" she barked at the cashier, throwing the silverware like a ninja throwing star into the cashier's leg.
He apologized for the inconvenience, hand pulling the fork out of his thigh. Once she'd cleared, he peeked at the silverware and noted it was simply waterstains, nothing too horrendous. Still he grabbed a new set and promptly replaced her old set. This pleased Miss Alabaster, like a pint of ice cream fried in fat.
Once Mary Sue brought out the drinks, she filled their orders. Miss Alabaster allowed her husband a single biscuit, no butter or jelly, though. She herself ordered pancakes with melted and grated cheese, three sides of bacon, three sides of smoked sausage, and a baker's dozen of biscuits, loaded down with apple butter, jelly, and a small bowl of butter. Mary Sue's heart sank for a moment as she went to fill the order.
Once the food was set down, well, I must spare you the details, dear reader, so that your stomach won't kill itself with a rusty spork. Upon finishing, Miss Alabaster handed her poor husband the check and forced him to pay it so that she could leave.
She strode out, knocking people out of her way, bellowing like a mad beast until she was in the car, husband soon joining her to drive them to their dismal, sugar-filled home.
The End
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