>>20975413[
>>20975434]
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>>20975454]
With some effort, you manage to peel off the Basculins chomping down hard on your testicles, as well as the one trying to eat Anna. The poor Lass is drenched in fish oil when you pull the Basculin off of her.
Surveying the absolute chaos around you, you're beginning to have your doubts over whether or not any of it can be salvaged. The secret about WcDonalds is out now, everybody knows it now, and the customers are fucking terrified. The WcDonalds under all of those glossy Pledge layers is nothing more than a garbage dump with pink sludge food in lieu of real food.
On top of that, the fucking insane Basculin are destroying the place left to right. The rabid school is terrorizing customers, ripping apart the decaying atmosphere, and devouring as much pink sludge as possible.
They have also mauled the manager to death with their Carvanha-like jaws. He's nothing more than a comical caricature of skeleton bones now.
>'Yeah.. there's no saving this place..'Realizing that: A) you're still getting paid either way and that B: you can do nothing to end this but watch the world burn to the ground, you nonchalantly spill gasoline all over the counter, "Anna. I think I have an idea."
"Y-Yeah, um, what is it?"
You stare at the young Lass through the flames in the match you're holding.
"We go on permanent paid leave."