The waiter steps back, breaking into a sweat.
<H-hey.. calm down.. I get it, okay! I know what you mean! I’ll get it right away!
<OH YEAH? SO YOU ADMIT IT THEN, HUH? YOU ADMITS YOU WAS FUCKIN’ WITH ME THAT WHOLE TIME, N’ YOU KNEW DAMN WELL WHAT I WAS FUCKIN’ TALKIN ABOUT? HUH? YOU BITCH ASS FUCKIN’ NIGGA? FUCK YOU!!
He fires his gun into the ceiling multiple times.
<YOU GON GET ME MY MEAL ALRITE, AND YOU GON GET ME DAT SHIT FO’ FREE, YA’ HEAR ME? AND IT BETTA’ BE SPICY AS SHIT, OR ELSE YOU’SE FUCKIN’ DEAD YOU HEAR ME?? FUCKIN’ DEAD!!!
A deadly hush falls over the restaurant. Patrons freeze mid-bite, too scared to do anything that might incur Doorknob’s wrath. The waiter stands petrified, hands up, the color drained from his face.
What do you do?
