F-ing Häagen-Dazs (a soliloquy)
(This is me trying not to just say beeping stupid beeping beepady beeping Häagen-Dazs)
I despise Häagen-Dazs with the fiery passion of a thousand burning suns.
Mere words cannot express the shear loathing I feel for this despicable place.
Tortures
across the globe would look on in awe at the agony that is
experienced
by the pitiful wrenches that are forced to ender working
at this outpost of hell.
Hours
stretch on into eternity as the demonic fiends masquerading as
customers
order more and more complex concoctions.
Muscles
strain past braking point as we try in vain to slake their outlandish
desires.
Impossible
tasks are undertaken with Herculean effort resulting in the thankless
outcome of our utter devastation.
As we
slave away in this desolate pit we wait with desperate longing for
that inconceivable
time when we may be, at last, set free.