Chapter Seven: Welcome to Burger World
I waltzed into my room, trying to ignore the empty Poptart boxes scattered on the floor. My eye twitched as I forced a smile onto my face. Stay calm.
I clutched a stack of papers in one hand and Mr. Dino in the other. I sniffed the stuffed dinosaur and narrowed my eyes.
He still hasn’t washed him. Now that I think about it, he hasn’t done jack to help out around here! All he does is eat all the food and sit on his butt all day!
“Get the fudge up, Grayson!” I yelled and tore open the blinds.
“What the fuck, Matum!” He hissed, covering his eyes.
I rolled my eyes and slammed the papers down on the bedside table. A few papers drifted off the table and onto his lap. His eyes widened as he read the bolded capitalised word: APPLICATION.
“No. No, I refuse to get a job.”
I squeezed the life out of Mr. Dino as I turned around to walk out of the room. I mean my room that Grayson has quickly taking over. “You will get a job.”
I heard the rustling of sheets. “I’m not a slave.”
Why does he always have to have the last word?
I whipped my head around. “Don’t think I forgot about last night, Grayson.”
I slammed the door on my way out. He didn’t have anything to say.
*****
“Welcome to Burger World.” Grayson’s monotone voice filled the small fast food restaurant. “How can I help you today?”
I peeked out from behind the cheap plastic menu and gave Grayson a thumb up.
The mother quickly scanned the menu and looked at her son. “Billy.” She started, but then thought better. “Honey,” she sweetened her voice. “What would you like?”
The little boy crossed his arms, set on what he wanted. “I want the Buzz Light-year toy 2000.”
“I said ‘to eat’. It’s lunchtime, Honey.”
“I. Want. The. Toy!” he screamed, his face turning an ugly shade of cherry tomato.
The frazzled mother shot Grayson a hopeful look. “Well maybe if Mr.” she started and looked down at his name tag that read: Hello My Name Is: FUCK OFF. She started over. “Well maybe this young gentleman can…” she trailed off.
Grayson shrugged and continued to tap his fingers on the counter.
Billy continued to scream as his mother tried to calm him down. Grayson must’ve had enough, because he leaned over the counter eye level with the child.
“Listen here, you little shit. We don’t sell damn toys. We sell fucking burgers. So get your shit together and order a fucking burger or get the hell out.” He said calmly and then stood up.
“Matter of fact,” he ripped off the grease stained apron. “What the fuck am I still here?”
He hopped over the counter and started towards the door. “Let’s go, Matum.”
I scrambled after him. “Grayson!” I screeched. “You can’t just call kids ‘little poops’ and walk out of your job!”
He clucked his tongue and ruffled my hair. “It’s funny how you think I still give—“
YOU ARE READING
The Boxer and the Blogger
Teen FictionBoxer meets Blogger. It's hilarious, ludicrous, entertaining and amusing. I mean, how much more can I say. He's the boy your parents tell you to watch out for and avoid. He's good-looking, has that I-don't-give-a-shit-about-what-you-think- attitu...
