Four
"Albert! Get you fat ass out here!" Jennifer yelled.
"Yes Miss Jennifer," he said.
"I need you to get rid of old Stevie and his stiff friends
- startin' to stink up the joint." She said adjusting her disheveled clothes.
"Yes Miss Jennifer," he said.
"And clean all this crap up to, we don't need any health
code violations. All right people! I'm the new general manager of this hash joint now. We will all Miss Steve but
he is gone now."
Albert fell over while dragging Steve out.
"Jesus friggin Christ!" She said kicking Albert in the
ribs (if he had any ribs under there). "Can't you do anything right!" She yelled, "Now get his ass
out of here and into the compactor."
He went through the exit and we never heard from him again.
"Now!" She yelled...
Then the fuckin' roof tore off.
A God Damn space ship was hovering above us!
"That's it, I quit dude." I said.
"People of earth," a strangely Mexican voice said, "We
have come for our son, where is Elian!" The ship said to us.
"Well!" Jennifer screamed, "Janet Reno got him
first!"
"Flaburnit!! (Alien equivalent of fuck).
"The the Pope shot Janet Reno," Jennifer continued,
"...and in the process shot Elian."
Kelvin looked at me and said, "Damn, I knew he was an alien,
but this is just fucked up."
Then an alien death ray vaporized Kelvin.
Apparently we pissed the aliens off, because they blew the whole
restaurant up like in Independence Day.
So here I am lying on the ground thinking that things couldn't
get any worse.
Then out of the blue a hooter falls from the heavens and hits
me in the face. I get up, slip the hooter in my back pocket and think to myself, "Things are looking up."
I wonder if café risqué is hiring.
