Waiter: Hi guys, how are you doing today?
**Spawn of Mrs. Douchebag and Mrs. Asshat howl, scream, kick, flail, beat their hands upon the table, shred the napkins that have only been on the table for mere seconds, and snot all over their booster seats. Mrs. Douchebag and Mrs. Asshat are giggling and oblivious to the pandemonium ensuing around them**
Waiter: I'll give you a second to sort out your snot machines. Oh! I'll give you guys a second!
Mrs. Douchebag: Oh we're fine, we're fine, TRENTON STOP THAT! **Trenton is biting her arm**
Waiter: .....may I bring you something to drink?
Mrs. Douchebag: Yes, yes, uhmmm.... Trenton, what would you like to drink? I would like an ice tea and a waiter, please. Trenton???? **Trenton, the little shit that he is, is chewing on the table, shrieking in rage. He is four years old.** Oh, let's just get him a soda. WOULD YOU LIKE A SODA, Trenton??!! **Trenton blows boogies all over his own shirt** Oh, let's just get him a cream soda. And a milkshake. WOULD YOU LIKE A MILKSHAKE TRENTON!? Yeah, let's get him a strawberry milkshake.
Waiter: Yeah, this shithead should definitely have more sugar poured down his throat.... Okay m'am.
Mrs. Douchebag: Ok, let's get her **pointing to her 2 year old daughter who is screaming so loudly that she's actually purple** a diet coke, Annie she's getting so chubby, isn't she? **Mrs. Asshat eyes the little girl and then nods emphatically** and him **dear Trenton's twin, named something moronic like Bentley** he'd like a cookies and cream milkshake and a grape juice.
Waiter: Great... Alright. Anything for you, m'am?
**Mrs. Asshat says nothing and purses her lips as she peruses the menu. Her spawn spit everywhere and then start beating each other with forks**
Mrs. Asshat: I guess I'll have a Diet Coke and a water? And a kids milk, an apple juice, and a water for him.
**Water designated child automatically stops thwacking his siblings to scream "MOMMY I WANT A MILK SHAKE!!!!!!!!!"**
Mrs. Asshat: NO YOU CAN"T HAVE ONE
Water Child: I WANT ONE!!! I WANT A MIIIIIIIILK SHAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! MILK SHAAAAAAAAAKE!!!!!
Mrs. Asshat: FINE! And a vanilla shake for him.
Waiter: yeah, let's reward that kind of behavior Mmmk m'am.
Mrs. Douchebag: Ok and we'd like a large cheese pizza with the sauce on the side and the cheese on the side but could you hide some spinach in it? Like, bake it into the dough?
Waiter: what the fuck?! I'll ask the kitchen, m'am, but I'm pretty sure they can work something out.
**Trenton and Co. are now competing to see who can blow a raspberry for the longest. Inevitably, the children run out of breath and come back in, causing those who had carried on to scream "YOU CHEATED!!!" and began chasing the others about the restaurant. The infant who (incredibly) had been sleeping through the previous mayhem now wakes up and joins the cacophony will ear piercing shrieks**
Mrs. Asshat: Ok, and I would like to have the turkey rueben, but no sauce and no bread, and with fries.
Mrs. Douchebag: Oh you are so bad!!!! Fries?!?!! Ok!!! I'll have the chopped salad, but no cheese, no onions, no dressing, no bacon, and the tomatoes on the side.
Waiter: **gets lost in thought watching the kids run up and down the floor screaming and hitting each other** Uhmmm... sorry!!! Sure! I'll be right back with your drinks.
The bill will rack up to be around $60 after all the brats have had their milkshakes and the moms will leave me $6. This is, of course, after the spawns of Asshat and Douchebag have made mulch out of all the napkins given to them, ground Goldfish crackers into their booster seats and their own clothing, and caused three other tables to move out of my section because they leaned over into their space and screamed and screamed for no reason. Mrs. Douchebag and Mrs. Asshat will eat their food in teensy bites, ignore their hell monsters, and sit for up to three hours while their banshees run wild disturbing the populous.
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