The Life of the Freshly Scrubbed Burger King Floor




I always get stepped on, kicked around, fry’s and burger crumbs all over me Why, I ask you? Why, all you do is spit your food down upon me, how would you like it if I did the same to you? I feel depressed, alone, and worthless I see a familiar face. It’s him, its him, as I drool with excitement he gets closer and closer getting ready to wash all the dirt, filth, and stinky old food. He is my only one true friend besides the cup of spilt soda that I occasionally talk to, and the half eaten whopper sticking out of the garbage can. As he keeps on walking closer and closer he notices the half eaten whopper in the garbage can and the cup of spilt soda. I yell in anger and frustration why, why must you take two of the friends I love and care about away from me? You know that I love them and care for them, so why do you make me feel pain? I thought we all were going to be best friends forever but it looks like I was wrong. You are just a fat, stinky, hairy chunk of hate and despair for everyone, even a freshly scrubbed floor like me.