Quote Originally Posted by ursus arctos horribilis View Post
Hey mother****er, I ain't paying you to stand around here talking about the place. Put down the pickled pig's feet and grab some Ice in a 5 gallon bucket and go fill the urinals back up.

Change the damn fly strip too. There isn't room for another fly unless he wants to try and and play fly strip twister at this point. This time don't hang it directly over the warm Maraschino Cherries either.

Holy crap, you and I frequent the same places, the jar with with gizzards and hearts, abandoned, longing to be purchased, fly paper with nary a spot to succumb, Maraschino Cherries, last ordered and served to a heavily made up women, yearning to be younger and whose name I have since forgotten, ice meant for the urinals, brown even before it hits the porcelain, the bottle of scotch, with a seal broken 10 odd years ago by the last decent customer in the place, a 12 pack of Grain Belt, still positioned in the cooler in a place of honor for the last patron that understood the splendor of the product, R.I.P., mousetraps, robbed of their bait and rusty from age, Polaroid pictures of customers from a bygone era, old, faded, seemingly out of place, Slim Jim's, crusty and dry but oddly good tasting.