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Small town's shitty takeaway claims to have mastered all world cuisine

A TAKEAWAY restaurant wrongly believes itself capable of preparing high-quality Italian, American, Turkish and Chinese food simultaneously.

Flamin’ Tasty in Kidsgrove, owned and managed by former soldier Roy Hobbs, offers a wide range of international dishes cooked by a qualification-free and entirely British workforce.

Hobbs said: “In the restaurant game choice is what it’s all about. You want mouth-watering Southern fried chicken? Josh can knock that up from frozen no problem.

“Or how about a taste of the mysterious East? It’s a load of bollocks about Chinese food being difficult to cook. I bulk-buy noodles and serve them with reconstituted chicken lumps, peas and tubs of catering gravy.

“Perhaps a delicious, freshly baked crispy pizza without olives or any of that Italian cobblers is more up your street? Tesco value, none of your shite.

“The doner kebab thing looks after itself, although I’ve never worked out what temperature it should be at. Don’t eat it myself because it always makes me sick. I must be allergic.”

Regular customer Wayne Hayes said: “I always get the Mexican salsa burger which is delicious. I don’t know if it tastes entirely authentic, because I’ve never been to Mexico and I only get it when I’m pissed.”

How to weigh yourself then take your bathroom scales to a remote forest and bury them where they will never be found

STEPPED on the bathroom scales, then managed to glimpse their evil numbers over your gut? Here’s what to do next: 

Step one: pick up the scales and wrap them in a towel

The horrendous numbers you saw on the scale must be hidden. So, like when the kids threw Jumanji in the river, wrap them so you can no longer see them, and more importantly, they cannot see you. Making them harder to identify slows the curse being passed to someone else.

Step two: begin a month long hike into the darkest forest you can find

Find an area of deep forest; Germany is good. Take the most complicated path you can find. Go in circles, through rivers, underground. If possible, abseil. All these movements will disorientate the scales so they cannot find their way home. Go so far into the forest you’re in Narnia. That is where we bury our scales.

Step three: dig a hole so deep you can see the mantle of the earth

Use everything and anything at your disposal to dig, dig, dig. Use your hands if you must, a shovel, your face, a JCB backhoe loader, whatever you have. When you see molten rock, drop the scales. Watch them melt. Let that slow smile of satisfaction spread across your face, your quest finally over.

Step four: burn everything you own

Burn your clothes, your possessions, your car, and anything else that might have been tainted by the scales’s lies. Scrub yourself until your skin is raw, then douse yourself in disinfectant. Lie down in your empty home, free of the burden at last. Then hear an ominous beep from the bathroom and realise the scales are in there.

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