The sirloin was dry. Mr. Cechmanek wanted to enjoy his lunch at Cadabbara’s, but he couldn’t get past the disappointing brawn.
“How is it, sir?” asked the tall brunette attending to Mr. Cechmanek.
“I like my bodies similar to a sirloin – warm, bloody,” Mr. Cechmanek replied.
He paid his tab and snagged a Cadabbara’s business card upon exit. Through the terror of modern technology, Mr. Cechmanek found the chef’s address. Later, Mr. Cechmanek’s Wagoneer pulled up to a house adjacent to the unfortunate chef’s residence. Scimitar in hand, Mr. Cechmanek got the piece of meat he sought out – warm, bloody.