I don't like Tabasco anymore
by Tony Hadders | Score: 1600
She sat right across me in the big noisy waiting hall and seemed to be a reserved dentist.
So I had more than a trouble that was fully imagined. I had two. I had a serious, real problem. Earlier as I was walking from the taxi to the airport entrance I was stopped by a man who seemed to hade emptied a spice bottle in one chug. His face was flaming red and his lips almost purple. Judging from his clothes, he seemed to be a stereotypical redneck. "You wouldn't have a suitcase filled with all necessities?" he asked. I looked at my suitcase filled with all necessities. "Yes I have" I replied, rather confused. "Thank you man, really appreciate it" he said and vanished into thin air, as well as my suitcase. In its place on the pale concrete pavement there was a small bottle of Tabasco. I took it up, looked at it and felt my confusion turn into irritation. Then I felt my left eyelid started twitching I knew that it was to late to not make a scene. I yelled at it without words, so it was more of a long throat-ravishing scream.
I calmed down as soon as I noticed that a pregnant woman was standing next to me. She stared at me, leaned towards me and whispered "You need to see a mortician, a respectful one".
I passed out.
When I woke up I was halfway laying down in a big seat inside of the big noisy waiting hall. Realizing that my gate was close by, I relaxed and saw the woman across me. Those teeth was to perfect, she ought to be a dentist.