Ladies and Gentlemen, I type before you with words I've never used more than the times I did before this. I'm sure there's a thought in there somewhere. And, where there's a thought, there's a brain-bicep yearning to jettison itself through your face-hole and punch its way directly into the face of someone who has it coming.
...Where was I going with this ...
Food is delicious. Fun fact, food is the most muscular meal of the day. Which meal is food? All of them. Three reps of food a day keeps the body-biceps happy, brawny and strong. I food at all hours when food is in front of me. I flex my plate into my gaping maw of chewing-rage and consume until I can't eat anymore ... and then my stomach and I do battle with the toilet in a flex of rage until toilet paper companies are the winner.
Rippling tangents aside, it's time to cook.
French toast is tasty and should actually be called Freedom Toast, as never once did it run from my hunger. It sat there demanding I consume! Each bite bringing me closer to being filled and Freedom Toast just sits there with a smirk and spite. I will not be bested by you, food!
And chicken is chicken. It's edible. And innocent. And I must crush it — with eating!
- Procure bread and a chicken with use of excessive force
- Perform the Kali Ma on the chicken as to acquire eggs from ... where ever its eggs come from
- Shove eggs and bread down the chicken's throat
- Break the chicken
- Viciously hurl headbutts at neighborhood children whilst mustering the courage to continue
- Punch the chicken and toast until golden tasty
- Consume the French/Freedom Toast and chicken
There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. By assimilating this meal into your essence, not only do you have the ability to travel through time in the present, but you can also be there while you do it.