Yo Boomy. Is this seat taken?
El-Jefe squealed horribly like a fat Mexican jamming himself into a portable toilet.
I looked up from my book and sighed. Could a man not even lunch in peace anymore? I knew I should have gone out for lunch like I usually do.
Fucking bosses.
Aye, go on you big lump.
El-Jefe furrowed his brow at that before deciding I was obviously joking and inserted his considerable frame into the seat across from me.
Several beads of sweat dripped from his hair at the sheer effort involved in sitting on a chair.
Lunch eh! Best time of the day.
He proceeded to pull a big plastic tub out of his bag and ceremoniously crack it open; the resultant exertion from such Olympian hard work meant more oily beads of sweat cascading down his big fat cheeks.
I wondered if he wore a hat on his arse, if anyone would know which face was his real one.
I don't think I would.
You not eating?
El-Jefe peered over at me eagerly as he finished opening his massive tub of lunch.
Me? Yeah, was just chilling a bit first. What you got there?
I looked at the Jefallump's tub, which now lay open, exposing its shame to the world. It looked like some kind of weird lumpy mayonnaise soup?
Well, I have been trying to cut back and eat a little healthier of late, you know? So I have made myself a potato salad.
He preened like a peacock determined to get its little nadger into something vagina-ish.
I scrumpled my face up in puzzlement as he forked a mayonnaise-smothered potato up to his awful saliva-stringed mouth.
A potato salad? Like, boiled potatoes in mayonnaise essentially?
I snorted.
El-Jefe nodded enthusiastically as he shovelled up some more mayonnaise potatoes into his gargantuan gob.
That's you eating healthy, is it?
I peered into his gigantic plastic vat of potatoes bobbing around in thick off-white mayonnaise. It looked like an ill elephant had ejaculated into it.
Coming up for Christmas, gotta lose a few pounds to prepare for the festivities.
El-Giganticus patted his large round gut proudly as if it were an adopted baby hippo.
Ahem, well, good luck with that then.
I chortled and pulled out my lunch, which was in a considerably smaller container.
What you got there?
El-Jefe eyes bulged and rolled greedily as if he were a fat little pug in a lady's bag that had caught a scent of some jerky.
Just a little something I call... The Lamb of God!
I took the lid properly off my tub and wafted it at him like I was showering confetti at a wedding.
Wha?... Whha...?? I ... Wha... What is it?
El-Jefe gazed in awe at the curry I had made before as the steam from it danced before him like a sexy cumin-scented ghost.
I stuck my fork in and speared me some lamb as El-Jefe stared in a way that violated many UN resolutions.
Can I... Have a taste?
He looked at me pleadingly as half a potato slid from his mayonnaise-laden spoon and splopped into his tub.
What? Fucking no. God sake, what a thing to ask. You stick with your healthy man muck and potatoes.
I laughed as if I were Jesus and I was showing my flock the best field to shit in.
El-Jefe stood huffily and gathered his things up.
Come summertime, we will see who gets sand kicked in their face on the beach.
He said pompously, stepping away from the table.
I snorted like a pig.
Yes Boss man, I am quite sure we will.
Oh dear.
