Digital Underground - uXu - Underground eXperts United #uxu-291

### ### ### ### ### #### ### ### ### #### ### ### ##### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ##### ### ### ########## ### ### ########## ### ### ### ### Underground eXperts United Presents... ####### ## ## ####### # # ####### ####### #### ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## #### ## ## #### # # ####### ####### ## ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## ## ####### ####### # # ####### ####### ###### [ Kraykkono Inn ] [ By The GNN ] ____________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________ "KRAYKKONO INN" by THE GNN/DualCrew-Shining/uXu According to the fax we received, Mr. Maynard fancied fast cars, women and exotic food. We could not pick him up in a fast car, nor could we arrange any women for his pleasure. So I had to take him to the most exotic restaurant in this city, which would mean that I was forced to eat at the Kraykkono Inn. That place gave me the creeps. But since Mr. Maynard was a very important customer I had to put my personal considerations away for a few moments. I did, however, try to convince my boss that I was not the right person to take care of Mr. Maynard, due to the fact that I would be unable to concentrate on the contract if I had to be at the Kraykkono Inn. But he pretended that he did not hear me. Instead, he just gave me the keys to the company car and told me to pick up Mr. Maynard at the airport. Mr. Maynard was a man of few words. When I explained that I would take him to the exotic new place in town, he just nodded and said that it sounded like a good idea. While driving to Kraykkono, my mind kept telling me to come up with some kind of excuse for not going there. The food there would make me throw up, I was pretty sure of that. I have never had any big thoughts about refugees whom come to our country to steal our money; and now they had also opened restaurants everywhere. I could not believe how normal people managed to shuffle their lousy food down the wind pipe. The restaurant was crowded, believe it or not. We were shown to a table by some weird member of the staff. Of course, it was hard to understand what he said. I did my best to look satisfied with the dirty table. You never know, Mr. Maynard might had been one of those stupid people who actually fancied refugees - which meant that he might be annoyed if I complained. I am not a racist, I do not think we are some supreme race. I just do not like other races, what is wrong with that? They may do whatever they feel for. As long as they do not bother me. But the people at the Kraykono Inn really bothered me. We spoke about the deal for a few minutes. Mr. Maynard was not fully satisfied with some part of the contract. I did not actually know what part he referred to, since my mind was occupied with thoughts concerning the hellish food at this restaurant. My thoughts transformed into a living nightmare when I saw the waiter approach our table. Slowly, he walked towards us with an evil grin all over his dark face. "Wilcome to the Kraykkono Inn, gentemen. Wat would ye gentemen like tu eat," he asked. Mr. Maynard ordered something from the menu. I decided to simply order the same food since I could not force myself to think clearly right now. "Oh," said Mr. Maynard. "I see that you enjoy Bloody Bowels too?" "Yes," I lied. (Bloody Bowels?) Mr. Maynard returned to the discussion concerning the contract. I did not hear a word he said. A couple of minutes later, the waiter came back and placed two empty glasses on our table. Then he puked into both of them, coughed, and went back to the kitchen. I closed my eyes. When I looked again, I saw Mr. Maynard slowly gulp down the vomits of the waiter. Sweat began to emerge on my forehead. "Mmm, I love this," he said. "Very tasty." "Really?" I excused myself and went to the bathroom. I had to splash some cold water over my face. It did not help very much, since the walls in the dirty bathroom were covered with posters of the staff of the Kraykkono Inn. I just had to look at them to feel bad again. When I came back, Mr Maynard was busy cutting the head off a child. I sat down and stared at the corpse. Its eyes stared at me. Nausea overwhelmed me. I reached for a napkin and accidentally touched the hand of the dead child. A green fluid spurted from one of the fingers. I gasped in horror. Mr. Maynard laughed. "Nothing to worry about. It's just some kind of defense mechanism. I know it is dead, I killed it myself on this table." He placed the head in a special bucket by the table. "The waiter said that he thought he recognized you as a regular visitor, so he gave us the finest child available: his own son! His wife got it this morning! Isn't that nice?" Mr. Maynard cut open the stomach. He put his nose above the cut and sniffed. "Fresh." Then he began to fish up the red bowels. "May I serve you?" he asked. I cannot remember much of what happened next. I know I ate the bowels, and I believe that I also drank a few ounces vomits. When my senses returned, I saw Mr. Maynard pat himself on the belly. "Wonderful," he said. "This is what I call a fine meal." I nodded. Mr. Maynard suggested that we should cut off one of the three feet and have for dessert, but I kindly denied his proposal. Mr. Maynard decided to try the undeveloped sexual organ. Afterwards, he said that it tasted like crayfish. We talked about the contract for a while. Mr. Maynard had changed his mind. He did not want to change anything in the contract. In fact, he found the deal to be very satisfying. He also added that he would call my boss and ask him to take care of such a good salesman as me. When we had left the Kraykono Inn, he asked if I wanted to have a drink with him at the nearest bar. I said yes. Some alcohol, produced on planet Earth for a change, would be just fine. I had saved the deal, so the day was not that bad after all. But I swear, if Mr. Maynard had suggested that we should try some drink that those damn refugees from the inner domains of Mars had put together, I would have killed him on the spot. I have had enough of extra-terrestial cultures. ////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// Bring up some more ice-cream, and some of that stuff for pain. Best board for t-files in Europe: THE STASH +46-13-NUMBERININDEXFILE \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ I'm your soul manager. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- uXu #291 Underground eXperts United 1996 uXu #291 Call ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT -> +31-77-547477 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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