There are plenty of things to be afraid of.
Bears… Your next-door neighbors… What you find in your lunchbox after spring break… YANI*… But I think one of the things that has terrified me the most, was what I saw when I stepped inside Golden Corral.
It was a very dark and rainy evening. I was on a mission trip with my youth group for the week, and this was one of our last nights spent together. The crew voted we eat at Golden Corral. I had never been there before, and I was incapable of voting anyway because I was currently suffering from a terrible allergic reaction (you guessed it: CEDAR).
I stumbled inside, and the place resembled a hybrid of Bob Evans and a school cafeteria. The tile was grimy, an unknown fluid was seeping through the ceiling, and a cashier who appeared to be suffering from a severe case of scoliosis was scowling at us from behind a metal tray-bar… (But they did have a very charming upholstery scheme.)
The restaurant is silent, except for the sound of grunts and smacking lips.
Morbidly obese monsters hunched over their pile of meat and potatoes, wordlessly scarf down their meal, shifting their beady eyes onto anyone who approaches. Their bodies are melting into the chairs—it appears they had been there for weeks.
I survey the options the buffet has to offer. The meat is gray and soaking in a mysterious juice; I chisel at the macaroni and cheese to try and break it free; the baby shrimp appear to be pale, white grubs rolled in some bready powder; and the chicken is so slimy, a thigh could be swallowed whole.
I glance at the dessert counter, and several cake-zombies are devouring the food right off the buffet. When it would run out, they would stagger around for a few minutes, moaning, and then return to the cake when the pan was replaced.
All the men wore greasy tractor caps; all the women had at least four chins; all the children… Sweet Jesus, the kids… Their eyes were slowly being sucked into their heads; their little puckered mouths screamed and bawled, their fingers looked like toes, their stumpy legs, hardly able to hold themselves up…
I managed to survive on some mushrooms and lettuce… But never before had I been so frightened for my very life.
*
Bears… Your next-door neighbors… What you find in your lunchbox after spring break… YANI*… But I think one of the things that has terrified me the most, was what I saw when I stepped inside Golden Corral.
It was a very dark and rainy evening. I was on a mission trip with my youth group for the week, and this was one of our last nights spent together. The crew voted we eat at Golden Corral. I had never been there before, and I was incapable of voting anyway because I was currently suffering from a terrible allergic reaction (you guessed it: CEDAR).
I stumbled inside, and the place resembled a hybrid of Bob Evans and a school cafeteria. The tile was grimy, an unknown fluid was seeping through the ceiling, and a cashier who appeared to be suffering from a severe case of scoliosis was scowling at us from behind a metal tray-bar… (But they did have a very charming upholstery scheme.)
The restaurant is silent, except for the sound of grunts and smacking lips.
Morbidly obese monsters hunched over their pile of meat and potatoes, wordlessly scarf down their meal, shifting their beady eyes onto anyone who approaches. Their bodies are melting into the chairs—it appears they had been there for weeks.
I survey the options the buffet has to offer. The meat is gray and soaking in a mysterious juice; I chisel at the macaroni and cheese to try and break it free; the baby shrimp appear to be pale, white grubs rolled in some bready powder; and the chicken is so slimy, a thigh could be swallowed whole.
I glance at the dessert counter, and several cake-zombies are devouring the food right off the buffet. When it would run out, they would stagger around for a few minutes, moaning, and then return to the cake when the pan was replaced.
All the men wore greasy tractor caps; all the women had at least four chins; all the children… Sweet Jesus, the kids… Their eyes were slowly being sucked into their heads; their little puckered mouths screamed and bawled, their fingers looked like toes, their stumpy legs, hardly able to hold themselves up…
I managed to survive on some mushrooms and lettuce… But never before had I been so frightened for my very life.
*
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