All the while, in the restaurant…
Stomach: Hey man, take it easy up there with what you’re eating. This week was fucked up. Send some veggies in here, ‘cuz things are ugly down at the intestine.
First plate (800 g): Rice, beans, chuck steak, rump cover, chicken heart and tomato.
Stomach: Are you fucking with me? Two slices of tomato? And all these rare meats? At least chew this shit up.
Second plate (550 g) Rice, ribs, rump cover, sirloin and mayonnaise salad.
Stomach: No more fucking meat, man, nothing fits here anymore. Remember that ulcer? It is really close to opening up again. Do you wanna fuck everything up? Send me some water.
Drink: 600 ml of Coca-Cola
Stomach: You idiot! I said water!
Me: Coca-cola has water in it. And helps to dissolve the meat.
Stomach: Coca-cola has Hell in it, fucker. You’re fucking up my gastric acid.
Wife: Darling, who’re talking to?
Me: Oh, nobody. Just thinking out loud.
Dessert: 300 g of pudding.
Stomach: Oh shit. It doesn’t fit anymore. Can you hear me?
Intestine: What’s going on up there? What’s all this racket?
Stomach: This guy keeps sending in food. Now is pudding. I don’t know what else to do.
Intestine: Let’s just send it straight out.
Intestine: Yep, that’s it, Operation Flush Out.
Stomach: Man, I don’t know. The brain is not gonna like it.
Intestine: Fuck the brain. He never came down here to see how things operate.
Stomach: Let’s give him a chance. I don’t think he will…
Drink 2: Coffee
Stomach: Son of a bitch! I’m gonna explode.
Intestine: Starting Operation Flush Out. C’mon, open up the duodenum, I’m already talking to the sphincter.
Heart: What’s happening down there? The adrenalin is rising really fast.
Intestine: Operation Flush Out.
Heart: Who authorized this? I didn’t hear anything from the brain…
Stomach: Fuck that gelatin! He doesn’t even have any muscles…
Intestine: Yeah, fuck that useless gelatin! Twenty seconds until the anal sphincter opens up. I wanna see his anus burn with the gastric acid.
Wife: Honey, are you ok? You’re sweating… where are you going?
Me: I need to go to the restroom, stat. Pay the bill and wait for me in the car, please.
Wife: Was it something you ate?
Me: I don’t know. I think it was the tomato.