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Underground eXperts United File 291
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Underground eXperts United
Presents...
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[ Kraykkono Inn ] [ By The GNN ]
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"KRAYKKONO INN"
by THE GNN/DualCrew-Shining/uXu
According to the fax we received, Mr. Maynard fancied fast cars, women and
exotic food. We could not pick him up in a fast car, nor could we arrange
any women for his pleasure. So I had to take him to the most exotic
restaurant in this city, which would mean that I was forced to eat at the
Kraykkono Inn. That place gave me the creeps. But since Mr. Maynard was a
very important customer I had to put my personal considerations away for
a few moments.
I did, however, try to convince my boss that I was not the right person
to take care of Mr. Maynard, due to the fact that I would be unable to
concentrate on the contract if I had to be at the Kraykkono Inn. But he
pretended that he did not hear me. Instead, he just gave me the keys to the
company car and told me to pick up Mr. Maynard at the airport.
Mr. Maynard was a man of few words. When I explained that I would take
him to the exotic new place in town, he just nodded and said that it sounded
like a good idea. While driving to Kraykkono, my mind kept telling me to
come up with some kind of excuse for not going there. The food there would
make me throw up, I was pretty sure of that. I have never had any big
thoughts about refugees whom come to our country to steal our money; and now
they had also opened restaurants everywhere. I could not believe how normal
people managed to shuffle their lousy food down the wind pipe.
The restaurant was crowded, believe it or not. We were shown to a table
by some weird member of the staff. Of course, it was hard to understand what
he said. I did my best to look satisfied with the dirty table. You never
know, Mr. Maynard might had been one of those stupid people who actually
fancied refugees - which meant that he might be annoyed if I complained. I
am not a racist, I do not think we are some supreme race. I just do not like
other races, what is wrong with that? They may do whatever they feel for. As
long as they do not bother me. But the people at the Kraykono Inn really
bothered me.
We spoke about the deal for a few minutes. Mr. Maynard was not fully
satisfied with some part of the contract. I did not actually know what part
he referred to, since my mind was occupied with thoughts concerning the
hellish food at this restaurant. My thoughts transformed into a living
nightmare when I saw the waiter approach our table. Slowly, he walked
towards us with an evil grin all over his dark face.
"Wilcome to the Kraykkono Inn, gentemen. Wat would ye gentemen like
tu eat," he asked.
Mr. Maynard ordered something from the menu. I decided to simply order
the same food since I could not force myself to think clearly right now.
"Oh," said Mr. Maynard. "I see that you enjoy Bloody Bowels too?"
"Yes," I lied. (Bloody Bowels?)
Mr. Maynard returned to the discussion concerning the contract. I did
not hear a word he said.
A couple of minutes later, the waiter came back and placed two empty
glasses on our table. Then he puked into both of them, coughed, and went back
to the kitchen. I closed my eyes. When I looked again, I saw Mr. Maynard
slowly gulp down the vomits of the waiter. Sweat began to emerge on my
forehead.
"Mmm, I love this," he said. "Very tasty."
"Really?"
I excused myself and went to the bathroom. I had to splash some cold
water over my face. It did not help very much, since the walls in the dirty
bathroom were covered with posters of the staff of the Kraykkono Inn. I
just had to look at them to feel bad again.
When I came back, Mr Maynard was busy cutting the head off a child.
I sat down and stared at the corpse. Its eyes stared at me. Nausea
overwhelmed me. I reached for a napkin and accidentally touched the hand of
the dead child. A green fluid spurted from one of the fingers. I gasped in
horror.
Mr. Maynard laughed. "Nothing to worry about. It's just some kind of
defense mechanism. I know it is dead, I killed it myself on this table."
He placed the head in a special bucket by the table.
"The waiter said that he thought he recognized you as a regular visitor,
so he gave us the finest child available: his own son! His wife got it this
morning! Isn't that nice?"
Mr. Maynard cut open the stomach. He put his nose above the cut and
sniffed. "Fresh." Then he began to fish up the red bowels.
"May I serve you?" he asked.
I cannot remember much of what happened next. I know I ate the bowels,
and I believe that I also drank a few ounces vomits. When my senses
returned, I saw Mr. Maynard pat himself on the belly.
"Wonderful," he said. "This is what I call a fine meal."
I nodded. Mr. Maynard suggested that we should cut off one of the three
feet and have for dessert, but I kindly denied his proposal. Mr. Maynard
decided to try the undeveloped sexual organ. Afterwards, he said that it
tasted like crayfish.
We talked about the contract for a while. Mr. Maynard had changed his
mind. He did not want to change anything in the contract. In fact, he found
the deal to be very satisfying. He also added that he would call my boss
and ask him to take care of such a good salesman as me. When we had left
the Kraykono Inn, he asked if I wanted to have a drink with him at the
nearest bar. I said yes. Some alcohol, produced on planet Earth for a
change, would be just fine.
I had saved the deal, so the day was not that bad after all. But I
swear, if Mr. Maynard had suggested that we should try some drink that those
damn refugees from the inner domains of Mars had put together, I would have
killed him on the spot. I have had enough of extra-terrestial cultures.
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uXu #291 Underground eXperts United 1996 uXu #291
Call ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT -> +31-77-547477
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