Post by sh17 on Apr 23, 2009 22:19:04 GMT -6
While his charge Vin Sin is training for his match against James Jackson this week, Myke Rhines has been banned from ringside and has taken the week to let the fire and flames die down outside the ring so Vin can take care of things inside of the ring. One of his stops in his sabbatical is the ever-famous House of Bacon in order to get some good grub, and maybe pick up a fine waitress as well as the check.
Generic busty waitress:Will this be all Mr. Rhines? Can I get you some cake, or maybe some cobbler and coffee?
Rhines: Well, I don't really like cake, or somesuch. Do you have any pie?
GBW: No sir we don't, I'm sorry to report.
Rhines:Well, actually instead of desert, I would like to order another entree, or somesuch. Would that be OK with you?
GBW: Absolutely Mr. Rhines, what can I get for you?
Rhines: I would like a pressed ham sandwich please, 86 the mustard if you would be so kind as too.
GBW: Uhhh, we don't served pressed ham sandwiches. I don't even think I've ever heard of pressed ham before, what is that?
Rhines: Well, you listen to me. Come back to my apartment, and we shall get in a various state of undress, and I can assure you I will enjoy a pressed ham sandwich...or somesuch.
GBW: MR. RHINES! That is highly inappropriate and I do not appreciate it!
Rhines: SHUT UP BITCH!
GBW: YOU ARE A HORRIBLE OLD MAN! *GBW slaps Rhines full force across the face, leaving a stinging red mark across his weathered bearded Staubachian face* GET OUT, BEFORE I CALL MR. DUNKPORK AND THINGS GET UGLY! *She storms to the back, obviously furious with the situation and how it has transpired.*
Rhines: I can tell she wouldn't have understood the greatness of Berman. Well, just like my old radio partner named after a particular household tool that I can not remember since I am so old once did, it seems to be my time to leave in a hasty and unprofessional manner...or somesuch.
Rhines stands up from his table carefully, as to not expose his sack or fart and fall down. He walks, wiener leading forward as if he sees a female coming towards him, and leaves the diner.
Generic busty waitress:Will this be all Mr. Rhines? Can I get you some cake, or maybe some cobbler and coffee?
Rhines: Well, I don't really like cake, or somesuch. Do you have any pie?
GBW: No sir we don't, I'm sorry to report.
Rhines:Well, actually instead of desert, I would like to order another entree, or somesuch. Would that be OK with you?
GBW: Absolutely Mr. Rhines, what can I get for you?
Rhines: I would like a pressed ham sandwich please, 86 the mustard if you would be so kind as too.
GBW: Uhhh, we don't served pressed ham sandwiches. I don't even think I've ever heard of pressed ham before, what is that?
Rhines: Well, you listen to me. Come back to my apartment, and we shall get in a various state of undress, and I can assure you I will enjoy a pressed ham sandwich...or somesuch.
GBW: MR. RHINES! That is highly inappropriate and I do not appreciate it!
Rhines: SHUT UP BITCH!
GBW: YOU ARE A HORRIBLE OLD MAN! *GBW slaps Rhines full force across the face, leaving a stinging red mark across his weathered bearded Staubachian face* GET OUT, BEFORE I CALL MR. DUNKPORK AND THINGS GET UGLY! *She storms to the back, obviously furious with the situation and how it has transpired.*
Rhines: I can tell she wouldn't have understood the greatness of Berman. Well, just like my old radio partner named after a particular household tool that I can not remember since I am so old once did, it seems to be my time to leave in a hasty and unprofessional manner...or somesuch.
Rhines stands up from his table carefully, as to not expose his sack or fart and fall down. He walks, wiener leading forward as if he sees a female coming towards him, and leaves the diner.