My Liscence to Kill
Working in the kitchen of a restaurant can really suck at times, but it also has some perks. free meal, free round of beers after an insane dinner rush, and every once in a while a waitress rings in my liscence to kill. "What could that possibly be?" you may be asking. Well stop interupting and I'll tell you!!
Suicide Wings! Whenever I see that order rang in (or is it rung in? I'm too lazy to do a spell check) it puts a smile on my face. Every place I've worked, when someone orders that 1lb of deadly deliciousness, it's us vs the customer. Our goal: make you curse the fact you thought you could handle such a dish! Especially when the person gets cocky and tells the waitress to get us to make them as hot as we possibly can. When that happens, they've just given us the legal opportunity to cause them bodily harm. I'll search high and low for such things as tobasco, Samb oelek, paprika, chilli flakes, garlic, and anything else that will make you franticly look for a glass of water! Now I don't just throw a bunch of randon stuff and just assume it tastes good, I always make sure it has a good taste, and melts your vital organs at the same time.
So when you're eating out and you're ordering wings, think twice about getting suicide. There's a group of evil do'ers in the kitchen just waiting for the next unfortunate soul foolish enough order them