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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2210205-Soups-On-You
Rated: E · Short Story · Comedy · #2210205
food fight
It wasn't my fault. I was serving my community service at a soup kitchen, serving soup. I had several economy-sized pots in front of me and a stack of puke green melamine bowls from the nineteen-seventies. The bums didn't care about the color of the bowls. I wouldn't have eaten out of them but I'm not some worthless bum either. Anyway, I must have mentioned that out loud, because next thing I know the bum in front of me is flinging the tomato soup I just served him right in my face.

Of course, I took my ladle and catapulted pea soup at the SOB. I mean how dare the gutter punk assault me like that. Of course, I missed and got a bag-lady in her blue hair. She ripped her bread up and soaked it in her soup and then began flinging the mushy bread everywhere. Shortly the whole place was flinging their food, or close to it. The cops came in at a run, one of them slid in cream of mushroom sliding all the way into the serving counter with a clang. Food stopped flying instantly and the stupid bums began peaceably eating what was left of their soup.

"Who started this?" The upright cop asked. Everyone pointed at me! The cop eyed me, "I might have known. What has your mouth gotten you into this time?"

I shrugged with the most innocent look on my face, "It wasn't my fault!"

The cop on the floor found her feet and walked behind the counter with her handcuffs out, "I do believe this is a violation of your probation."

I flinched, "So, is my usual room open?"

The cop with the cuffs chuckled, "You have a standing reservation."

"At least the food is better than this slop!" They led me out to the waiting patrol car and the gutter-trash all applauded loudly.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2210205-Soups-On-You