I roamed into a restaurant as my stomach was making sounds like a dead walrus. After roaming around for a quite bit, I ended up stepping foot in a restaurant named Billy’s Best Cooking. I sat in the booth, glancing at the menu and I immediately am aware of the grumble in my stomach.

“May I take your order?”

My thoughts are interrupted by my waitress. She straightens her apron and taps the pencil against her notebook. I tell her exactly what I want and expect it to fit my taste, and I kept my hopes up and hoped that I wouldn’t receive the nastiest meal in my life. I mean where would I go if I don't like the food here. It was 10 at night and my head was spinning in circles.

I was prepared to eat a five star meal. First, I ordered coke to drink. Well, this coke was more like a hot-cola because it was as warm as a light bulb lit for too long, flat with no sizzling caffeine bubbles, and the ice cubes in it seemed to be made out of white windshield washer fluid. I took one sip and immediately felt sick. I decided to avoid drinking it. I definitely didn’t wanted to spend my precious moments in the E.R.

I called over the waitress and ask, “Where is the soda machine?”

“Right on your left by the entrance,” she replied.

So, I dug out 65 cents and went to the pop machine where I bought some real Coca-Cola.

Next, I ordered some soup.

“I’d like potato soup, warm and with many veggies, please.”

As I awaited the arrival of my soup, I thought about what could go wrong. As the waitress bent over to put the bowl in front of me, I looked at it and knew I wasn't even going to put it in my mouth.

Instead of a creamy soup with chunks of potatoes cooked to perfection and topped with shredded cheese and chives, I was awarded with an unpeeled potato in a bowl of cold water that was more like a piece of the moon with craters.

The waitress looked at me and said, “You can heat this up in the microwave over there if it isn’t warm enough for you.”

I gave her a grin, looked at my soup, and gave her my next order.

This time, I ordered the next part of the meal, the salad. I flashed my hand as the waitress made her way over.

“I would like a house salad with Italian dressing. Also, could you please make this tasty and something i could actually consume with the time remaining. I don’t have all the time in the world for you guys to give me raw food and then I having to cook it myself.”

I was anxious to receive the salad as I was getting increasingly hungry. I was again disappointed. When they said “house” salad, they really meant house salad. Instead of leafy lettuce, juicy tomatoes, shredded cheese, and crunchy croutons, I found myself with a bowl of drywall, shingles, nails, and shredded wood. It was more as if a construction site was being tossed onto my plate. There was no way I could eat that salad so I ordered the appetizer.

As my anger was building up within me, I ordered deep fried onion petals. When the appetizer arrived it looked like whole onions dipped in kitty litter and fried in gasoline. They were the blackest, stickiest onions I ever saw. More like tar covered onions actually. As you may have guessed, I didn’t even bother checking them out. You are probably thinking I should have left the restaurant at that point, but I was determined to receive a full five-course meal – so I stayed.

Still disappointed, I ordered my entrée. I chose to order barbeque ribs with a side of corn and a roll.

After the waitress left, I looked at my potato soup and contemplated my alternatives. I decided that the potato soup could actually be salvaged and turned into a baked potato. I went to the microwave and attempted to poke some holes in it so it would cook better and faster. When I went to poke the holes, my fork could not perforate the surface. Upon further inspection, I realized it was actually a rock! Just as I was realizing this, the waitress was approaching with my meal. She told me enjoy, smirked, and left.

“Hey, waitress for table number 9, can I please get another potato soup? But, this time not a rock, a potato instead.”

“Actually there are no more potatoes left. Sorry for the inconvenience! Here’s your entree though.”

I made my way towards my seat. I glanced at my plate and was quite surprised. I really didn’t think they could mess up barbeque ribs, corn, and a roll, but sure enough they did. My barbeque ribs were comprised of rib bones with a few slivers of meat on each and coated with seven layers of ketchup. In fact, it really looked like a skeleton’s bones with someone’s dead flesh, all covered with blood. I was very disappointed, but the ribs were hot so I managed to eat the meat and scoop off some ketchup and put it to the side. Then, I looked at my corn and realized that instead of being served sweet corn, I was given a cob of Indian corn, still in the husk. I looked to the side of my plate and the roll was literally going to roll. It was in the shape of a ball, as hard as a rock, and it rolled right off the plate, and into a lady’s purse. At this moment, I was about to stab the waitress with a fork. Well not legit, but the bottled fury was about to explode.

Finally, disgusted with my misfortune, I requested for the dessert.

“Ma’am, I’d like a piece of chocolate cake.With vanilla frosting if you may. Also, if this order gets spoiled, you will never see me in your restaurant along with any of your previous customers. I mean what kind of food do you serve. April Fool’s day isn’t even around the corner if you were trying to fool me. I don’t exactly know what wrong with you and your cooks -”

The waitress broke my train of thought as she spoke out loud with confidence: “Sir, I do not know why you aren’t appreciating what my cooks are doing for you at this point of the day. It’s almost midnight and the food smells delicious. No need to insult it just because you're jealous of how good it is.”

“Oh so now you’re arguing with a customer. Saying that they smell delicious shows you weren’t born with the sense to smell. I mean are you blind as well. Look at these meals you given me. Do you realize what kind of position this can put your restaurant in. You are going to end up with a decrease of your daily business or you can even get fired. I mean why don't you go ahead and taste these for yourself,” I responded right back with a touch of sass and a spoonful of attitude.

The waitress took off without saying anything back to me. I mean who’d even have the guts to serve this to me and not think they were going to get confronted. At this point I didn’t even know if if was going to get my dessert.

When the dessert did arrive, I found that my chocolate cake was really foam in the shape of a triangle, which I saw previously at Michael’s. It was covered in mud, and ants – black and red – crawling in and out. Due to allergies with ants, I freaked out, panicked, injected my Epi-Pen in my leg, and sooner than ever, I found myself in the hospital.

I was experiencing nausea and was in the hospital for two weeks! My room was an ocean of vomit. The food had poisoned me and I was like a rigid rock for the time I was at the hospital. I tried to sue the restaurant, Billy’s Best Cooking, and it was a success. On the other hand, the dreadful part is that it still up in business, but there are plenty more restaurants in your local town that you can go to get a perfect food tasting experience. If you want to take the risk and end up legit dying like me, you may proceed with your choice of eating at this repulsive restaurant. You can either believe me and take my word or end up like a sick horse. I am warning you for your own sake!