So instead of talking, she just stood there and shook helplessly, clutching herself. And then she asked another question anyway."Can I go to the bathr...om? I really have to pee." She found herself sitting on the toilet, pee gushing into the water below. Her arms were still clamped across her chest, and she still shook like a leaf. Through the door, she could just make out a corner of the box in the other room. This was so unnerving. She started to cry again, and then, Maggie found herself. They punched orders into a machine, and food showed up under the heat lamps on the bar shortly thereafter. Which is perhaps why we had such a crude tradition of hazing the new waitresses. At some point in the distant past, the head cook had obtained through foul means no doubt a silicone mold. And it wasn’t just any silicone mold, oh no. It wasn’t a bundt cake, or even a butt cake. I’m pretty sure it was a mold of a Shetland Pony. His penis to be exact. It was a flaccid green work of art,. More

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