In one of the vibrations of the
universe The Dog and The Photon’s verses were waverfied to The Dog studying the
makeup of the ground up and the ground in college. Grounds all around.
That meant The Dog had studied the
gasses and guesses and guests in the various gusts of the Earth where he was
spending timing in school. The Dog spent
his time, alright, and The Earth did not spend even a dime. Nickle here, nickel there, nickels nick less
everywhere. The Dog studied and tried to
remember how magma’s mama rises from the heated pressed center and combinations
of hydroxidates and nitrites and various carboniferouses made, shaped,
misshaped and transformed solidifying, cooling chemical substances which seep
out regularly of the Earth’s sole.
Igneous, sedimentary, and coniferous slabs are said to make up where
man, both kind and unkind, footed their world.
Upon graduating The Dog was informed that businesses did not want to
hire any living things that understood the makeup of the world. They wanted workers that would follow people
in makeup, markup, and mass discontent, continent by continent,
continually. So, to encourage life,
instead of outrage it, The Dog got a job to manage restaurants for a restaurant
chain which had a racist name. There
sure was no resting in restaurants.
Although some people call them restrooms. Since The Dog was educated, the restaurant
chain’s owner did not want him exuding anything learned, so he earned the must
to go from restaurant to restaurant after each few short weeks, since being
short with the weak would not add to any thoughts the people that showed up at
these places would gain. Gain or Loss,
that is how it is.
The Dog became a permanently hired
restaurant manager who replaces sick managers at varieties and variations with
no vacations in a variation of that very nation with all their notions of that
brand’s restaurants across Indiana.
The Photon, on the other hand and
the other paw and with other pauses was profited and proffered profusely as a
professor being possessed with a bunch of passes in the past from Wisconsin,
and among those many other sins, who vacations in Indiana and hikes across the
state. The Photon diametrically lit up
his students too much according (or is that accordioning) to his students
parents. Since those parents were the
ones that paid for those students’ educations, then The Photon must listen to
them. They want their kids in darkness. They are not Kidding. That made The Photon to start up his
personal, solo, lone walking trips through Indiana, in order to give his students,
the isolations their parents felt and pelted, wealthed or not, and many nuts,
in their own knots, that those kids
deserved. They are being deserted and
desserted.
On the way down to an Indiana City
which held a state prison, The Dog stopped at a state’s reserved forest
preserve and walked himself along the river which held statues of what the
inhabitants put up with during the last great Glacial Period. While The Dog was there, on his way towards
his first dinner management sickness shielding stop he stopped to start walking
along official states’ paths. The Photon
bumped into him in a group and told them that the Wisconsin Glaciation
retreated from Indiana 10,000 years ago so Indiana could not claim state
representatives had heroically survived those ice sheets because Indiana was
not an official state until December 11, 1816, which is not quite 10,000 years
ago.
The Dog went to Wet LaFayette. He still hopes to be Laughed At Yet. He did get laughed at when he burned arm on
grill while he was actually cleaning it.
How can you call a facility owned grill clean when there are Dog arm
carbonations, carbonatics, and other parts of the attacked attics in, on, and
over, and I mean all over it. The Dog
was then Taken to the Hospital. And by
‘Taken to the Hospital’ I mean
the managers’ state wide supervisor told him to drive himself to the Hospital
so the restaurant does not get into any legal trouble. The Dog made it back to keep cooking and
kooking. The Photon beamed The Dog’s
head and handled him like a puppet so the puppy could look like he is driving
himself to the Intervention Care Unit, get covered with oil not from the stove,
bandaged with band aides as a visual aide, wooden you not move it cast so his
arm looked like it was being saved for a wonderful life, and then the hostile
hospital peep holes smiled as it looked like The Dog walked back into his car
and drove himself back to the restaurant from which he came. The Photon also noted but did not stop the
who spies workers from wilting The Dog’s wallet by letting money out so they
could write up a deceitful receipt for half of the taken amount claiming they
received for saving The Dog’s valuable life.
As time started going on The Dog was
next kept in a low priced local kennel while he worked as the Fort Wayne,
Temple of Doom, or is that Tempting The Domed Restaurant as a Manager to temporarily replace the one who had
the microbes and would not be at this time allowed to run the restaurant in
person, or in prison, and handle the cash register for his permanent customers consumers
and costumers. Speaking of Prisons, that
local kennel was also holding a killing animal while the social and unlogical
poor lice held it in a cage next to the cage The Dog was paying for. The Photon lighted, high lighted, and
delighted the village laundromat so The Dog could claim he is always clean and
not just keen when he is Working as the Restaurant Manager when he is Working
for that particular Restaurant Manager.
In Terre Haute, not far from the
Turkey Run State Park the permanent
manager, who was sleeping with his regular waitress while his irregular wife
vacationed in a state other than Indiana, well that not at that time manager
had recently hired someone whose wife steals displayed objects such as vases
and shot glasses. The Photon ribbed The
Dog and told him that this was the date that the state inhibited inhabitants
would honor a yearly religious date by letting people of that specifically religion pay with prayers. The Photon came in to light up The Dog’s life
so he could work twenty four hours a day for three days straight and claim the
coverage of the vases and shot glasses of the new employee’s wife who left and
were never heard from again.
Next The Dog wagged and waged his
way and weight all the way towards Bloomingdale the place where you share your roomers
and ask the girl next to you ‘Where are your Bloomers?’ The Dog was managing the cashless register
while a new employee comes in for a used visual restaurant shirt. The Dog took him into the non frigid food
storage room in back where the cleaning supplies and shirts and ties were
stored. This New Employee was also a
Nude Employee and was the Emploding of The Photon so The Dog covered him up
with a reversable tie and a pleasant peasant pheasant shirt. He now fit in with the wing ding feathers in
the rest of that restaurant.
Finally, The Dog managed to act like
his was managing a restaurant in Indianapolis just in time for the 500 mile
race, hoping and hopping for 500 smiles from racists. The Dog was frying some
burgers on the grill and cooking three eggs in the microwave oven when a
retired regular person came in for a cup of coffee. He told The Dog that he would warn him if
someone came in to talk The Dog’s employees into joining a union. That coffee was lit up by The Photon who used
that moment to make complete his Union with The Dog as they were again United
and Untied and they went On and On and On across the cross of their crass crashed Onion Field. Who Do You See Fields?
This unfit of unity united The Dog
with the surreal world and he left artificially managing real and fake workers
in restaurants. Lefting them was right.
