Where do I begin?
Probably the best story is my dramatic exit from KFC in the late 90's. At University I used to work in a walk-in KFC on a very busy student drinking road.

I had a habit of turning up late, and in a variety of states but as I and the manager were friends, I got away with it for months. Unfortunately, he was dismissed for emptying the safe and was replaced with a dimwit named Gemma. Charm, sophistication and intelligence, she had none of it! It had taken her 9 years (from 16 to 25) to rise to the dizzy heights of temporary branch manager.

Naturally she compensated for her feelings of inadequacy by shouting and being generally as unpleasant as was possible ( a particular fave of hers was to try and ensure staff only got a wing or drumstick for the staff meal - no breast or keel!). I was given a number of warnings owing to various misdemeanours (playing gladiators with mops on a wet kitchen floor, humourously cleaning the floors naked with my friend and leaving it on CCTV, etc), culminating in a written warning after I had soaked her work clothes and all her possessions before placing them carefully at the bottom of a box of fries in the freezer. I also soaked her at the end of her shift, causing her to be off ill for a bit.

The crunch came when the owner came and threatened me with my job. I nodded, took serious note of the conversation, and went onto the counter. I had been up for a while, and had taken a lot of acid the night before which meant I served a meal to someone who wasn't there (made a bit of a mess on the floor, as I recall). When Gemma began to be unpleasant about this (understandable) error of judgement I calmly removed her hat and placed it into the fryer, giving it, I imagine a lovely crispy coating. I then removed a tureen of beans from the bain-marie and emptied them over the counter, picked up a bucket of chicken, explained to her that if she so much as looked at me again I would chop her up and serve her in a crispy coating, put my nose in the air and made a dignified exit, to the open mouthed horror of her acolyte, Amy and general smiles and approval of the rest.

On the way out I superglued her car door locks. Ha.

The best part of this was I had seen this coming, had stashed a 50 kilo bag a secret coating which I sold by the half pound, I had many chicken fillets, and still maintained friendships with the staff, all of whom would bring me chicken and chips etc after the shift when thay came round for a smoke and game on the playstation.

Happy Days.
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Fri 24 Feb 2006, 10:40, Reply)