Boburta did it. She wasn’t planning on committing to a purging diet this week until the next issue of, “Vain & Vomit,” came out. At least she felt the pleasant return of her typical composure. The girl’s bathroom was probably the cleanest thing in the establishment, thanks to the gender percentage of staff. That and Boburta didn’t care on who she had to sacrifice to make this one room suitable for use.
Flushing the myriad of color considered to be stomach contents down the drain, Boburta headed over to the cracked mirror to freshen up. The toilet sputtered and drooled from under the lid. Betty must have used the toilet again, since it was in awful slant and a fissure like crack gaped on the other side that only a dog sized offering could fix. “But I like puppies…” She whined under her breath as she patted down more makeup. Reapplying her lipstick to make sure she was in top notch looks, other than Annie ‘n Coral there wasn’t that much competition to be the hottest around. And unlike those two midgets, she’s got an actual height!
Staring at the grimed cracked class, she could see some grotesque chunks faulting her perfect mouth. In a near scream she had to go desperately grab her secret bleach supply for emergencies like these. Getting in a low hunched position the carrot top girl snuck out of the bathroom and headed to the abyss of disgust, only Fartle ever used the darn thing anyway. Making it the best hiding spot in the whole diner! However, no woman wants to be caught dead in such a horrible, stench reeking and stomach churning spot in the whole world no matter what store or building it was in.
The Boy’s bathroom door, slanted and dangling by a single bolt on the hinge beckoned to her. She need her bleach, she had to have it…she had to brave the horrors of the realm deemed to what males call a bathroom. Gulping, Boburta gentle flicked the door open, her eyes watering at black tile walls glistened with yellow-green slime that perpetually seeped out of the more porous sections of the roof corners. A thick haze floated inside, not even the laws of the universe would allow it to diffuse and merge with it’s outer walls. The floor was laced in a fluffy white and blue speckled carpet. The tendrils swayed as if alive. Which they were of course, as the floor was a carpet of mold you typically found growing on old cream cheese.
Taking a deep breath, Boburta’s chest swelled with breathable oxygen compared to the suffocating air in the fungal habitat of a bathroom. Charging in, she aimed for the only not infested cupboard at the end of the corridor. Each footstep caused the floor to deflate and some bits to flake off. She swung the cupboard over and snatched the two gallon bottle of bleach before finding herself on the outskirts the room. Panting for air and gripping her bottle intensely. Smiling her stained smile, she gently shut the door and returned to the girl’s bathroom. She did about 10 swigs of bleach to rid her mouth of the awful remnants of her upchucked breakfast. Checking the mirror, she flashed her teeth once more. The same brilliantly white greeted her back. Smiling, she puckered her lips for a new coating of lipstick and waltzed out back to the main section of the diner.
It was absolute chaos. The newcomer was covered in black shaped things. Tomi had a section of its manual. Boburta couldn’t believe her blonde bad boy was already dealing with Fartle’s various forms of punishment. “FAAAAAAARTLE,” she screeched and was going to say something else, but her eyes locked onto Betty.
The woman in her large form was lapping up what she was eating before from a table. She was covered head to toe. Something deep in the recesses of Boburta’s fashion and magazine swamped mind snapped. She couldn’t take it anymore. First all the times she tried to convert her to dine on what she consumed. All the times she stole the big mirror time. ALL THE TIME SHE TRIED TO FIX THINGS AND JUST MADE IT FREAKING WORSE. ALL THE TIMES THIS LARD WHALE THOUGHT THIS WAS OKAY. Now going ballistic, Boburta zoomed towards Betty. “THIS IS THE FINAL MOLDY STRAW, BETTY. YOU CANNOT PUT THAT ATROCITY YOU CONSIDER EDIBLE ON EVERYTHING, EVERYONE AND YOUR OWN BODY.” She bellowed.
With eyes as fierce as a rabid fangirl seeing her boy band crush with his girlfriend. She glared right at Tomi. The sack of bones rattled in either excitement or fear. “TOMI, I COMMAND YOU TO COMPLETELY FIX THIS WHOLE DINNER. I WANT IT SPOTLESS, I WANT HOLES PATCHED, AND I WANT THIS PLACE BRAND SPANKING NEW.”
The giant manifestation in the closet clanked and slammed together in a sound equivalent to laughter at the request, knowing the size of the sacrifice had to be exceptionally generous. The large hand smacked the ground like a hand bashing a table to ease their glorified laughter. Tomi never though such an absurd request would ever be asked.
Boburta’s cheeks turned into a deep shade of purple as the blue blush merged with her typical tomato color. “Here’s payment EARLY!” She shouted, shoving the bewildered obtuse Betty forward.
Unfazed the gatherings of closet bones rattle and shook amongst it. As if debating on accepting the disgusting offering, but it didn’t take long for it to decide. A discolored giant hand was formed and emerged between the now small piles of left over bones. It grabbed at the hulking mass referred to as “Betty,” and dragged her in to the closet that now erupted unholy sounds that varied between shrieks to unearthly roars and guttural rumbles.
There was no turning back as Boburta fell to the floor. She was in awe that she had basically killed Betty. Now frozen, smaller hand Tomi went over to the counter and grabbed a dusty stained sticky note. Using a “pinky,” it secreted a black fluid that could be assumed as ink onto the paper. Speeding towards Boburta it handed the note and also a magazine of hers that sat unfinished nearby the counter as well.
The note read, “Request accepted. Will proceed, how convenient that tonight is a full moon, huh?” To which Boburta’s lip wobbled to, tears forming around her eyes, but Hand Tomi flipped open a page of the magazine. “Fits of rage are totally okay! No matter what you did, ignore the consequences. Pretty girls can get away with just about anything without sufficient evidence!” Boburta read out loud.
The magazine was absolutely right! She was pretty she could get away with it. Standing upright, she wiped her hands together like she just threw out the trash, the tears still in the corners of her confidence filled eyes. “It wasn’t the first time she fed Tomi a person on accident, so what made Betty different?” She spoke to herself happily, before teetering away.
Boburta had a date with the bathroom so she could go ball her eyes out on how she accidentally got another person killed again. At least her exit looked cool, problem solved.
Also the place will finally be clean enough for actual customers to come it. Clean diner, but the same disgusting food trapped in the fridge.Flushing the myriad of color considered to be stomach contents down the drain, Boburta headed over to the cracked mirror to freshen up. The toilet sputtered and drooled from under the lid. Betty must have used the toilet again, since it was in awful slant and a fissure like crack gaped on the other side that only a dog sized offering could fix. “But I like puppies…” She whined under her breath as she patted down more makeup. Reapplying her lipstick to make sure she was in top notch looks, other than Annie ‘n Coral there wasn’t that much competition to be the hottest around. And unlike those two midgets, she’s got an actual height!
Staring at the grimed cracked class, she could see some grotesque chunks faulting her perfect mouth. In a near scream she had to go desperately grab her secret bleach supply for emergencies like these. Getting in a low hunched position the carrot top girl snuck out of the bathroom and headed to the abyss of disgust, only Fartle ever used the darn thing anyway. Making it the best hiding spot in the whole diner! However, no woman wants to be caught dead in such a horrible, stench reeking and stomach churning spot in the whole world no matter what store or building it was in.
The Boy’s bathroom door, slanted and dangling by a single bolt on the hinge beckoned to her. She need her bleach, she had to have it…she had to brave the horrors of the realm deemed to what males call a bathroom. Gulping, Boburta gentle flicked the door open, her eyes watering at black tile walls glistened with yellow-green slime that perpetually seeped out of the more porous sections of the roof corners. A thick haze floated inside, not even the laws of the universe would allow it to diffuse and merge with it’s outer walls. The floor was laced in a fluffy white and blue speckled carpet. The tendrils swayed as if alive. Which they were of course, as the floor was a carpet of mold you typically found growing on old cream cheese.
Taking a deep breath, Boburta’s chest swelled with breathable oxygen compared to the suffocating air in the fungal habitat of a bathroom. Charging in, she aimed for the only not infested cupboard at the end of the corridor. Each footstep caused the floor to deflate and some bits to flake off. She swung the cupboard over and snatched the two gallon bottle of bleach before finding herself on the outskirts the room. Panting for air and gripping her bottle intensely. Smiling her stained smile, she gently shut the door and returned to the girl’s bathroom. She did about 10 swigs of bleach to rid her mouth of the awful remnants of her upchucked breakfast. Checking the mirror, she flashed her teeth once more. The same brilliantly white greeted her back. Smiling, she puckered her lips for a new coating of lipstick and waltzed out back to the main section of the diner.
It was absolute chaos. The newcomer was covered in black shaped things. Tomi had a section of its manual. Boburta couldn’t believe her blonde bad boy was already dealing with Fartle’s various forms of punishment. “FAAAAAAARTLE,” she screeched and was going to say something else, but her eyes locked onto Betty.
The woman in her large form was lapping up what she was eating before from a table. She was covered head to toe. Something deep in the recesses of Boburta’s fashion and magazine swamped mind snapped. She couldn’t take it anymore. First all the times she tried to convert her to dine on what she consumed. All the times she stole the big mirror time. ALL THE TIME SHE TRIED TO FIX THINGS AND JUST MADE IT FREAKING WORSE. ALL THE TIMES THIS LARD WHALE THOUGHT THIS WAS OKAY. Now going ballistic, Boburta zoomed towards Betty. “THIS IS THE FINAL MOLDY STRAW, BETTY. YOU CANNOT PUT THAT ATROCITY YOU CONSIDER EDIBLE ON EVERYTHING, EVERYONE AND YOUR OWN BODY.” She bellowed.
With eyes as fierce as a rabid fangirl seeing her boy band crush with his girlfriend. She glared right at Tomi. The sack of bones rattled in either excitement or fear. “TOMI, I COMMAND YOU TO COMPLETELY FIX THIS WHOLE DINNER. I WANT IT SPOTLESS, I WANT HOLES PATCHED, AND I WANT THIS PLACE BRAND SPANKING NEW.”
The giant manifestation in the closet clanked and slammed together in a sound equivalent to laughter at the request, knowing the size of the sacrifice had to be exceptionally generous. The large hand smacked the ground like a hand bashing a table to ease their glorified laughter. Tomi never though such an absurd request would ever be asked.
Boburta’s cheeks turned into a deep shade of purple as the blue blush merged with her typical tomato color. “Here’s payment EARLY!” She shouted, shoving the bewildered obtuse Betty forward.
Unfazed the gatherings of closet bones rattle and shook amongst it. As if debating on accepting the disgusting offering, but it didn’t take long for it to decide. A discolored giant hand was formed and emerged between the now small piles of left over bones. It grabbed at the hulking mass referred to as “Betty,” and dragged her in to the closet that now erupted unholy sounds that varied between shrieks to unearthly roars and guttural rumbles.
There was no turning back as Boburta fell to the floor. She was in awe that she had basically killed Betty. Now frozen, smaller hand Tomi went over to the counter and grabbed a dusty stained sticky note. Using a “pinky,” it secreted a black fluid that could be assumed as ink onto the paper. Speeding towards Boburta it handed the note and also a magazine of hers that sat unfinished nearby the counter as well.
The note read, “Request accepted. Will proceed, how convenient that tonight is a full moon, huh?” To which Boburta’s lip wobbled to, tears forming around her eyes, but Hand Tomi flipped open a page of the magazine. “Fits of rage are totally okay! No matter what you did, ignore the consequences. Pretty girls can get away with just about anything without sufficient evidence!” Boburta read out loud.
The magazine was absolutely right! She was pretty she could get away with it. Standing upright, she wiped her hands together like she just threw out the trash, the tears still in the corners of her confidence filled eyes. “It wasn’t the first time she fed Tomi a person on accident, so what made Betty different?” She spoke to herself happily, before teetering away.
Boburta had a date with the bathroom so she could go ball her eyes out on how she accidentally got another person killed again. At least her exit looked cool, problem solved.
