And tokens poured forth like mana from heaven, bringing games and tickets to the children, and there was bliss.
Music came down from on high and a band formed from unlikely friends. Their songs filled the room with pizza and loud children.
And in the middle of the malestrom, the music would start and together they cried out in terrible unison, “chucky. Chucky. CHUCKY.”
They were supposed to destroy these when they closed the locations, to prevent exactly this.
Which is a tall order for minimum wage restaurant workers. The fuck they gonna do? Take it down to the local steel mill and T2 it?
Anyone else hear The Crystal Method’s song “Trip Like I Do” when reading the title of this post?
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
I guess what they had was technically pizza.
