Jeff The Killer Works At McDonald's
Jeff was currently watching TV at the totally true mansion and an ad popped up that made Jeff intrigued.
"
THE NEW MACHETE + KNIFE, ONLY FOR $666 DOLLARS!
"
Jeff ran over to Slenderman's office like the speed of sound. "Hey bitch, fork over some money!"
Slenderman, an intellectual, gave him a fork. "Jeff, go get a job at McDonald's. I figured you should as their food is as greasy as your receiving hairline."
Jeff spat on his shoes and marched over to the McDonald's area. He went over to the cashier and stared at her. "Hiring?"
"Yes, sir! Please wait for the manager as he-"
"GET HIM NOW!"
"Yes, sir! Sorry sir!" She ran to the back, bringing back the manager that looked around 300 lbs. "What do you want?"
"I want a job here." Jeff said, putting his hands in his pockets, trying to sound as edgy as possible.
"Oh, I think you will be perfect here. The food is as greasy like your receiving hairline."
"STOP JUDGING MY HAIRLINE! THE HAIRLINE HAS FEELINGS LIKE YOUR STUPIDLY LARGE BELLY!"
"You are now hired!" The boss said, out of fright and ran off. Well, he didn't run.
Jeff got his apron plus signature visor cap on and nodded. "Time to roast these hoes. Majority of the food back here is gross anyway. "
The day went on slowly. Jeff wasn't a cashier nor window worker. He was a fucking Spongebob joker look-alike hamburger flipping boy.
Jeff got mad whenever someone judged how greasy the hamburgers were like his hair. So, he decided to take multiple small pieces of his greasy ass hair and cooked it inside the meat.
A girl soon ordered a cheeseburger and was the unlucky victim of the hair in her meat. She walked over to the front counter and stomped her feet. "Lemme talk to your manager.
Jeff looked over, went insane, ran over to the girl and killed her. Jeff then killed everyone in the store, including the manager. He went ahead and stole some money from the cash register. He raced back home and closed the mansion's door. He locked all the locks and sat down with the door behind his back. He looked at the money, his eyes widening.
It wasn't the eyes of happiness.
He only had $665 dollars.
Then, he died, alongside the narrator of this story, me, thanks to his idiotic self.
Moral of this story? Never buy something that is $666 dollars. Plus, don't have a greasy receiving hairline.
THE END :)