Ollop the chef.

While on my lunch break I decided give Porky Troporkal a try. I had driven by it every morning while on the way to work and had since been curious enough to stop and try something on their menu. It seemed like a normal fast food restaurant until I walked inside.

“Can I take your order?” the order clerk whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” I asked.

The order clerk nervously nodded her head to the huge hulking man working behind her. He was facing the stove and cooking rows and rows of pork chops. “You don’t want to make Ollop angry,” she whispered. As if hearing his name, Ollop turned his head to cast me the menacing glare that sent chills down my spine before he returned to his cooking.

“He already seems upset,” I whispered back.

“You don’t understand,” she replied, “whenever Ollop gets angry, anything nearby containing sufficient internal levels of moisture will pop inside out like popcorn.”

“What?” I could not believe my ears.

“That’s his nature,” she sighed. “Now what would you like?”

Before I could place my order, Ollop let out a loud yell as the stove launched a drop of hot grease that landed on his arm.

“HIT THE GROUND!” the order clerk screamed as everyone in the kitchen dropped out of sight. She frantically motioned for me to do the same and I quickly dropped to my knees, my ears fully alert for what was to happen next. That’s when I heard a very loud series of squishy popping sounds that sounded like farting mud bubbles. Then an eerie, tense silence filled the restaurant before I heard the order clerk announce, “All clear! Sir?”

I rose to my feet and, after regaining my composure, placed my order and after waiting a few minutes, had myself an otherwise enjoyable lunch.

Popped pork chops isn’t half bad.

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