Chapter 45 – Lost

*Joe mistakenly thinks del means and

Florg Stunt Cow 2 Mount Rushmore awoke to find himself much larger and more rocky than before. As he looked around he slowly realized what had happened, he had been given the identity of a mountain which was causing him to start to become the mountain. This was rather strange as when the identity of Stunt Cow 2 had been thrust upon him he felt no more cowish or stunty than usual. Despite the previous experience Florg Stunt Cow 2Mount Rushmore was most certainly starting to feel different, which would become a mountainous problem if not remedied soon. While this identity was only being temporarily assigned to Florg Stunt Cow 2 Mount Rushmore it was so large and overpowering that he feared it would crush and destroy the rest of his identity before it was gone. He would have to find an identity protection agency to help him before it was too late, lest he be stuck as a giant landmark for the rest of his life (which would probably dramatically increase due to the slower rate that rock erodes at).


As Joe approached the strange fire breathing tower he could see more detail and it became apparent what it was. It was some sort of tall angry half circle that could breath fire. Normally such an angry and dangerous geometric shape would deter Joe but his close proximity also helped his other sense discern things better, and his sense of smell indicated that there was most certainly smell in that direction and that alone was enough to warrant further venture. Joe finnaly got close enough to see what the strange object was, it was a sign for some place apparently called taco Taco Taco Taco Del Taco SUPREME! in fact it looked just like the below sign:


Joe excitedly rushed in, for the only thing that sounded better than a taco or two to satiate his hunger was a triple taco or a supreme taco*. When Joe arrived he was greeted by an employee in the back shoveling something into a large furnace.
“Welcome to Taco Taco Taco Del Taco SUPREME! I will be right with you to take your order” The worker shoveled in a few more scoops of stuff, closed the furnace doors and walked up to the counter. “See previous greeting, what do you want?”
Joe was going to order, but the part of the worker’s name tag with his name was carefully covered with a ball of decorative dryer lint thus obscuring the name. Normally not knowing the name of a person would not preclude one from procuring food from them, but Joe was leery of buying food from unknown people ever since he bought that potato salad from that guy names “Ive Ebola”; it was most terrible tasting. Thus Joe was compelled to ask the name of the man before him.
“My actual name is Hoover, like the vacuum, but some call me Shoes, others Flask, to some I am known as Busman and yet still others call me Ledgeroad.”
Now that Joe had ascertained the names of this person he proceeded to order, or at least he attempted to but was stopped by the lack of a menu. He figured that in a place called “Taco Taco Taco Del Taco SUPREME!” would have tacos and they would probably be pretty good to get the word taco in the title so many times and thus ordered three.
“You fool!” cried Hoover “We all the time be never having such things. Here at Taco Taco Taco Del Taco SUPREME! we offer the finest offered hamburgers and burritos, and all our stuff is fried in 100% all natural partially hyphenated-soy bean-oil. So then, what you even be wanting?”
Despite his hunger the idea of lunch being fried in bean-oil (with the dangerous possibility of that including his drink) made him hesitate, he remembered reading an article about the dangers of eating hyphenated foods. The hyphens would detach as the food was being digested and the pointy little buggers would impale themselves on your innards. Joe was unsure of the validity of a scientific study that used the phrase “pointy little buggers” but didn’t want to take that chance and thus proceeded to inquire if they had anything not fried in the bean-oil, claiming he was on a “no punctuation diet”.
“We have some of that thing with stuff, but that’s only available at place during time and seeing as it’s currently other time I can’t help you. Unless…” at this Hoover scurried over to a strangely glowing device on the wall and fiddled with some knobs causing the lights to change. “There now it’s time and thus you can has this!” at which he pulled out a completely normal looking hamburger. “That will be e and a half falafels. (tilde 2.718281828459045235360 +.5)”
Joe instinctively reached for his pack to pull out some money when it stuck him, how in the world would he would pay an irrational and a half amount. He figured he would round up and let the cashier deal with the change. With that confusion resolved Joe proceeded to pay with a wad of rational cash.
“Money? Bah! We don’t take money! This fine establishment takes falafels, seeing as there are a finite number of falafels in this universe by charging out customers in falafels we can amass the and destroy them thus driving our biggest competitor the falafel factory out of business.”
Joe was thoroughly bewildered by the concept of paying for food with other food, but seeing as he had no food he figured it would be best to just leave and not try to convince the worker of this bizarre store with such strange policies and naming conventions. As Joe scurried out of the doors to Taco Taco Taco Del Taco SUPREME! he heard a faint cry from Hover of “Coward!”

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