in front of them
like a man, he barked,
that was their fault.
He saw the fish,
cleaned them out
right down the gold
in their back teeth,
and made them
thank him for it.
He vacuumed out the register
with a bent smile,
tore up his tab,
and spat in the face
of the one guy
who had stepped forward
with hesitant justice.
"Go ahead, loser,
take a swing at me",
he sneered,
"put it right here",
as he jabbed his middle
finger
to his chin.
He then put the swag
in a tablecloth,
and laughed as he
stripped them of the
last of their
expired-code
dignity.
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