|
So Bruised worked all day in the Diarrhea Mines, ladling, sorting and cataloguing the feces of an entire population raised on Taco Bell and Pizza Hut.
|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| Alright, old friend, I'm here to check your progress. How's it going? | |
 | |  |
|
 |
| | |
| Fine, I guess. The piles of... uhm... excremental "elements" are behind you over there. | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| Oh I see- What?! Corn mixed with green beans, mushrooms intermingled with pistachio nutshells? This is all wrong. You must complete the sorting process- by hand! | |
| | |
|
 |
| | |
| Christ. At least I'm getting paid by the hour. | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| Oh, one other thing. We're out of gloves. | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
