Fear the Barfitron Read Online Free Page A

it. You are here to volunteer, are you not?”
    “Yes!” I blurted out. I had almost forgotten why I was here, and was secretly glad that I wasn’t going to be the main course. I presented my volunteer form to the slim man. “I’m ready to help day and night—whatever you need.”
    He took my time sheet and said, “Very well.” He snapped his fingers, and the Nurse reappeared with another, equally large male Nurse. In fact, they lookedso much alike that I could mistake them for each other. They were identical, down to the uniform.
    “Escort this gentleman to the kitchen, and see to it that he lends a helping hand,” said the man. He then turned to me and said, “Please follow the orders you are given to a
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, and most importantly, please do not stray into any part of this facility without an escort.”
    With this, he pointed at the gentlemen who were looming over me.
    He continued, “If you find you enjoy this kind of work once your time here is done today, please do join us again at six p.m. on Monday. We can set up a regular schedule at that time.”
    “Okay,” I said. I wasn’t sure what else to say, so rather than stand there awkwardly, I put out my hand and introduced myself. “I’m Chris. Who are you?”
    The man eyed me and paused. It looked like he was trying to figure out how he wanted to answer.
    “I’m the Director,” he said. He then shook my hand, bowed slightly, and left, as if he had a million things to check in on.
    I stood in the hallway taking in the tattered tapestries and listening to the slow, creepy organ music. I had a staring contest with a dusty old painting to the left of the hallway for a few seconds before both of my escorts, in unison, said, “This way.”
    We walked past the stairs and into the main hallway,passing several rooms along the way to the kitchen. In one of the rooms, a bunch of old ladies sat around a fire, cackling. A large black pot hung above the flames, and I wondered if they were preparing brunch.
    We walked past another room filled with faded and cracked leather chairs, where two very old-looking gentlemen had nodded off to sleep. At their feet were two ragged dogs.
    “Hey, poochie,” I said as we passed by. One of the dogs lifted his head and stared at me. His head was shaky, but he looked right at me. His eyes seemed eerily human. I felt the hair go up on the back of my neck, and was glad when we passed.
    We turned left at the end of the hallway and entered a kitchen. Several more large men, identical to the Nurses but each in a chef’s uniform, ran around preparing what I could only guess was brunch. Although I couldn’t recognize anything, I took in a deep whiff and immediately coughed. The kitchen smelled terrible. It almost made me miss the school cafeteria. Almost.
    The burly man with the largest hat approached and handed me a uniform.
    “Put on,” he said, and motioned over to a counter, where a number of dishes had been laid out.
    I struggled to put the uniform on. It was ten sizes too large, but I could still tell that I was meant to looklike a waiter. A man stood at the head of the counter. He motioned at me to come over.
    Trying not to trip on my pants, I shuffled over to the massive chef.
    “Special dietary needs,” he said and pointed to the table in front of him.
    I looked down. On the table were three bowls of what only could be described as “red” soup. Maybe it was made out of beets…or prunes. That’s what old people eat, right? Next to the soup were three plates filled with what looked like gray mashed potatoes or grits. Its smell reminded me of the time I found a dead raccoon under the porch. And finally, two plates of finely chopped raw steak, which really just looked like a chunkier version of the soup.
    “Hurry,” said the massive chef. “Angry when hungry!”
    He shoved a tray with the three bowls of soup into my hand.
    “Table three!” he added, and pushed me out into the dining area through two swinging doors.
    It