I ate a lot of toast. Never was much of a chef, and so I ate a lot of toast. Then one day I burned my finger on the toaster and I got so mad. I was like, "if there was a god, why would he let me burn my finger making my toast?"
That's why I don't think there is a god, but if there is, when I get to heaven I'm gonna jab him with my burned finger and say, "HEY! GOD! You let me burn my finger!"
So that's when I got to wishing I had someone to make me food, not that I wanted them to get burned, but I thought it might be nice to eat something besides toast and soup all the time.
I should kill someone. If I kill someone I'd get put on death row, and when you're on death row they give you your own cell and a pen and paper and you get to think of what you want for your last meal. Anything you want! You can order extra too cause it doesn't matter if you eat too much cause you''ll be dead soon anyway and you won't need to worry about indigestion. That's pretty cool, and who knows, maybe after you eat your desserts, cause you should order more than one dessert, maybe then the governor will pardon you and you'll get to leave, after having your free last meal!
That's what I was thinking when I decided to kill someone. But who should I murder? I was thinking so much about what I would order for my last meal I didn't think about who I would actually kill. Then I thought it would be funny if I killed a chef. Just shot him down or bashed his head in with a pot. Then I would get a free meal on death row. It would be like honoring the guy I killed. What a great idea.
So I went to the McDonalds around the block and I asked the girl if I could see the chef and borrow a pot. She was really rude right off the bat and I kind of regretted choosing a chef and not a girl at the cash register. She was all like, "Chef? What you mean chef? And what you need a pot for?"
I didn't want to tell her my whole plan cause she wasn't a friend of mine and I only tell secrets to my friends. I said, "I just want to meet the chef. And I want a pot. But I need the pot first before I meet the chef."
She looked down at my hands. I think she was looking at my burned finger. Then she looked back and me and said, "Get the fuck out of here man."
I thought that was pretty rude. The guy working the sundae machine came over and looked at me.
"Where's the chef?" I asked. "Wait! The pot first."
He laughed. "We don't have any chefs man. And pot's not on the dollar menu."
Just then I smelled those french fries and I remembered I had a dollar in my pocket so I thought, "OHHH! I can get those fries and I won't burn my finger."
So I ordered some fries. The cashier took my money while she muttered, "Crazy ass wants a fucking pot. Eat your fucking fries and shut the fuck up."
I shook my head. "You'll never be chef with that attitude."
