Hi. My name is Genie Haskell
I will be your hostess today at this wonderful establishment of Coffee and Liberty serving up good ole fashion capital all day, everyday. Would you two like to hear about the specials?”
“Um. Excuse me, Ma’am? But isn’t this a covert black site for enhanced interrogation techniques? You see we are Rangers and just passing through.”
“Well how do? and Welcome.
and yes. Yes it is. Oh chef?! Bring out the cheese board and some water for these gentlemen.
Listen fellas. You sure you don’t want to hear about the specials?”
On the far side of the room two friends spit out there coffee when they overheard the remarks.
Urged by his friend, one of them made a beeline to the door. Standing there with arms crossed and a sullen scowl on his face,
a chef garbed in a blood spattered apron grabbed the would be dine and dasher by the collar of his jacket and yanked him close.
“You pay for coffee or we make example of you in dungeon. I mean kitchen. Yes?”
It wasn’t a question. The patron pulled out a crumpled note and said “Please take it. Let me go. I swear I won’t tell anyone. Sobbing, he declared, I have adult children and they need me! They are millennials,” he said; sobbing, and sank to his knees.
He clutched at the chef. “It’s my birthday. Don’t do this.”
Suddenly the hostess and the Rangers burst out laughing. The casually dressed dine and dasher looked up into the wide toothy grin of the burly chef. Stunned, he glanced at his companion who indicated that it was him who set it up.
“That’s for Argentina buddy,”
he said with a wink.