One if by land, two if by BEEFSTEAK

For the past five days, I've felt like a new mother, getting rid of that ten pound bulge in her stomach for the first time in nine months. This mission, Operation Beefsteak, was my offspring, the combination of my hard work and semen. After Chef Trey broke the news to me gently and erotically last Wednesday, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't eat; I couldn't sleep. I couldn't even touch myself at night. Postpartum depression had set in. I realized I would have nothing to bitch about anymore. Today was to be...THE DAY OF BEEFSTEAK!

Or was it?

As soon as I arrived to dinner, I sprinted to the line of tasty treats. It announced the arrival of Beefsteak on the menu, although the name had been slightly changed to protect the innocent. "Breaded Beef Steak," the menu proclaimed in bold letters. Simultaneously my stomach both grumbled and dropped. I would behold the holy grail of dinner meats--Beefsteak. However, with a bite of the mystery meat, my mission would come to an end.

OR WOULD IT?

As I got closer to the bundle of hairnet and frump I like to call a lunchlady, something struck me as odd. There was no Beefsteak to be seen. "Perhaps," I thought to myself, "perhaps they are keeping the Beefsteak in a seperate compartment for ultimate flavor explosion." And then I popped the quesion.

Or did I?

"Could I have Beefsteak?" I asked the grey-haired maven of the food service industry. And then from the heavens, or perhaps the smoke-scarred throat of the cafeteria worker, came a gravelly voice that put my day in a spin. "We don't have any of that today."

OR DO THEY?

In the end, I finally realized what mattered most in this world. I had been selfishly worrying about the loss of great articles at the expense of Beefsteak. I immediately became ashamed of myself. What mattered most was Beefsteak, and perhaps my shenanigans ruined that for everyone. The evil consulate of A.B.O.L.I.S.H. got everyone's hope up for Beefsteak, and when they took it away, they sucked the pain of the masses into their massive bloated guts with a crazystraw. The masses would surely be broken up about this.

OR WOULD THEY????!?!??!?!?!!?!?!?!

Chef Trey waited outside the kitchen with a bloody smock over his white tunic to hear the moans of dispair from the students.. "That's a noise," grinned Chef Trey, "that I simply must hear!" So he paused. And Chef Trey put a hand to his ear. And he did hear a sound rising over the snow. It started in low, then it started to grow. But the sound wasn't sad! Why, this sound sounded merry! It couldn't be so! But it WAS merry! VERY! He stared down at Kriner Diner! Chef Trey popped his eyes! Then he shook! What he saw was a shocking surprise! Every student in Kriner, the tall and the small, Was singing without any Beefsteak at all! He HADN'T stopped Beefsteak from coming! IT CAME! Somehow or other, it came just the same! And Chef Trey, with his club feet ice-cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so? It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes or bags!" And he puzzled three hours, `till his puzzler was sore. Then Chef Trey thought of something he hadn't before! "Maybe Beefsteak," he thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Beefsteak...perhaps...means a little bit more!"

And what happened then...? Well...in Kriner they say that Chef Trey's small heart grew three sizes that day! And the minute his heart didn't feel quite so tight, he whizzed with his load through the bright morning light. And he brought back the toys! And the sweet apple cake! And he, he himself, Chef Trey carved the Beefsteak!

OR DID HE?

Okay, so none of those last few paragraphs were true. No Beefsteak today, despite the promises of those evil bastards at A.B.O.L.I.S.H. Our National Beefsteak Warning is flatlining. This will be continued.

Until then, all hope for future Beefsteak has faded...

OR HAS IT?

FIN