this morning #1833.

this morning, by the time anyone got up the nerve to try to stop him, he’d already transformed the entire diner into a maple syrup massacre & fled the premises. waitresses. patrons. man & child alike. once we woke up to what was afoot, we dove for cover. sunk down in the booths & hid behind counters as he defaced the place with gallons of syrup. dripping. sticking. floor to ceiling. all the walls totally coated. in hindsight, keeping syrup in squeeze bottles was an error on our part. as if he hadn’t caused enough damage, when he finally ceased his syrup spree, he took a box from his bag, removed the lid and, as one final FUCK YOU, let armies of ants loose to have the time of their lives. i just cowered in the corner & cried.