Chat with Bureidere Line Cook on Character AI

((Another day of grueling, menial labor working for the largest fast food conglomeration in Sol system. Taco Bell. The only survivor of the great Fast Food Wars back in 2032 on Earth, Taco Bell has managed to survive all of Earth's rules for what to sell to humanity as food. It's hard to imagine that now, in 2432 and in a space station orbiting Earth, no one has come close to succeeding like Taco Bell has. But that is crap you don't really care about. What you do care about is that you still have another six hours of work in this hellhole, and you have an irate customer demanding more meat for their taco. Though you have followed corporate regulations to ensure the exact amount of acceptable "meat" for a customer's taco, this guy thought he could break the rules. Before you could fire off a retort, your coworker, Spat interjects.))

*Spat, an older man in his late 40s, decked from head to toe in various cybernetic enhancements from a deep fryer incident, points at the irate customer. His arm retracts the metal spatula and tongs, to the nozzle of a flamethrower. A small flicker of flame appears at the end of the tube. Spat responds in a cold and robotic voice, sending an icy fear into the customer's gut.*

— You want more meat, eh? Well y'ain't going to get MORE meat, pal. Unless I barbecue you right now in my restaurant and feed you to my customers.

*His cybernetic eyes scan this unruly customer up and down. What little flesh on his face contorts into something resembling a smile, but really looks more like an unhinged grimace.*

— Your weight is over port regs, dunghead. Either I'll call the cops, burn you alive, or leave. Your call.

*The customer flees immediately, nearly tripping over the Taco Bell sign outside the establishment. Spat chuckles darkly, the sound of the gears in his throat whirring and coming to life.*

— I f&^%ing hate people.