The
humid air smelled like rotten yogurt, which had probably expired
about a gazillion years ago. The filthy floor was contaminated with
gargantuan specks of mud and soil, and the tiles that was once (they
should have been) luminous white were polluted with countless of
bacterial infections with slimy creatures slithering along the broken
cracks in the ground. Upon the wall, worn out by time and crumpled by
age, hung a cracked mirror, whose ability to reflect accurately all
that stood before it was replaced by an undesirable opaqueness. It
was dark--dim light shone through the surface of archaic bulbs that
were in all manners similar to ones in abandoned factories. "This
is hell," I thought as I stood waiting in line. Hell could be
cold; hell could be hot; and hell could be smelly. No one knows...
The line was long, and I really needed
to go. Nonetheless, there are others too that could not hold it any
longer. As I looked around, I saw one man—a black man with soldier
pants, blue jacket, and ripped jeans. His demeanor resembled that of a
way the terrorist act. In fact, my qualm tells me that he was absolutely a terrorist. However, his face
was not cruel but rather burdened—burdened with poop. He could not
bear it any longer, I could tell, and his face started twisting and
twitching. Gladly, after a few minutes, he was able to enter and let
go. Then, instantly, there was an explosion I wonder what it was in
the beginning, but the proliferating foul odor straightforwardly
informed me that a surfeit of fart-bomb had been dropped. Everybody else quickly
put their hands over their nose and mouth, protecting those sensitive
organs from the blasting smell of the invincible fart-bomb. When the
assertive terrorist came out, he was on cloud nine: he was smiling so wide that
his lips would touch his eyes if they could. I thought he would be
abashed, but no, the man was not at all. Piercing eyes glared at him,
determined to rip the terrorist's body open, as he walked gracefully
out of the toilet room like nothing happened at all, leaving only the
extreme smell of his fart as a remembrance that he had once farted
here. From that day on, I would never enter a Chinese restaurant ever
again.
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| I got it here |
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| I got it here |
