- Drink-Mix Man
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You are an odd fellow, but I must say... you throw a swell shindig.
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Sci-fi, but the author is just really hungry:
Empress Kay Sadhila and her henchman the Count Monte Cristo have invaded the hiveworld Suet. Our dashing hero Cod Linguica springs into action.
The hero had muttonchops and cornrow hair, topping off his beer-belly figure
Bick Spurlington ran towards the Teleporter. But first, he stopped at the replicator and made a ham. Then he ate the ham. It was salty and delicious. Red lights flashed all around him as a mechanical female voice intoned "Hull Breach Imminent. Hull Breach Imminent." There was no time to lose. He replicated Honey-Poached Pears with Hazelnut Butter and a Buttermilk Ice Cream. The exquisite mouthfeel of the warm pears melting into the chill ice cream reminded him of his childhood on the planet F'run G'farr. There were only seconds left before the starship's exterior lost its integrity. Wasting no time, he waddled in a satisfied manner towards the Teleporter and punched in the coordinates for the nearest McDonalds.
Blade Runner, but about food:
"I want more fries fucker."
"You're in a Mexican restaurant, walking up to the counter, when all of a sudden you look down..."
"What one?"
"What?"
"What restaurant?"
"It doesn't make any difference what restaurant, it's completely hypothetical."
"But, how come I'd be there?"
"Maybe you're hungry. Maybe your're hungover. Who knows? You look down and see a torta, Leon."
"Torta? What's that?"
"You know what a sandwich is?"
"Of course!"
"Same thing."
"I've never eaten a sandwich... But I understand what you mean."
"You reach down and take the top piece of bread off the torta, Leon."
"Do you make up these questions, Mr. Bourdain? Or do they write 'em down for you?"
"The torta lays open-faced, the jamon and avacado inside glistening, beckoning to be eaten, but it can't. Not without your help. But you're not eating."
"What do you mean, I'm not eating?"
"I mean: you're not eating! Why is that, Leon?"
[Leon licks his lips]
Interviewer: [Foodline test room at LAPD cafateria] Officer K-D-six-dash-three-dot-seven, let's begin. Ready?
K: Yes, sir.
Interviewer: Recite your foodline.
K: And blood-black grease began to sizzle... A system of burgs deep fried within burgs deep fried within burgs deep fried within one kitchen... And dreadfully distinct against the grease, a tall white soda fountain sprayed.
Interviewer: Burgs.
K: Burgs.
Interviewer: Have you ever been to a McDonalds? Burgs.
K: Burgs.
Interviewer: Do you sit at the booth or table? Burgs.
K: Burgs.
Interviewer: When you're not performing your duties do you eat cereal straight out of the box? Burgs.
K: Burgs.
Interviewer: Deep fried.
K: Deep fried.
Interviewer: What's it like to hold a big juicy burg with two hands? Deep fried.
K: Deep fried.
Interviewer: Did they teach you how to lick your fingers of the grease? Deep fried.
K: Deep fried.
Interviewer: Do you long for having your stomach coated in grease? Deep fried.
K: Deep fried.
Interviewer: Do you dream about being fat? Deep fried.
K: Deep fried.
Interviewer: What's it like to hold a burrito in your arms? Deep fried.
K: Deep fried.
Interviewer: Do you feel that there's a part of you that's always hungry? Deep fried.
K: Deep fried.
Interviewer: Within burgs deep fried.
K: Within burgs deep fried.
Interviewer: Why don't you say that three times: Within burgs deep fried.
K: Within burgs deep fried. Within burgs deep fried. Within burgs deep fried.
Interviewer: We're done... Constant K, you can pick up your bonus order of french fries.
K: Thank you, sir.
I've eaten things you people wouldn't believe. XXL Chalupas with fire sauce off the Bell of Tacozia . I ate my way out of a roast beef prison littered with flying buffalo bones near the Arby's Gate. All my frequent eater punchcards with one punch remaining will be lost in thyme, like fizz in the champagne. Time to dine.
careful with this one gaff, he's a goddamn one-man slaughterhouse
did you get your precious pho?
someone was there
men?
poultry...men?
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Jan 3, 2018 22:50
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May 10, 2024 03:29
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- Drink-Mix Man
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You are an odd fellow, but I must say... you throw a swell shindig.
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"Leftover pizza is a dish best served cold."
-Old Klingon Proverb
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Jan 4, 2018 23:44
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- Drink-Mix Man
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You are an odd fellow, but I must say... you throw a swell shindig.
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McCheese: Yes! Questions: Morphology? Shelf life? "Enjoy by" dates?
Chew: Don't know, I don't know such stuff. I just do fries!
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Jan 5, 2018 18:01
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- Drink-Mix Man
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You are an odd fellow, but I must say... you throw a swell shindig.
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More chicken than sandwich, that's our motto.
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Jan 5, 2018 22:53
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