Sneeze Guard Breach (All-You-Can-Eat Panic)

Soca x industrial club—buffet riot groove with health-code mayhem

[CASE FILE 001]
Time stamp 12:03 PM — “Customer approaches hot bar.”
Notes: plate already shiny; fork pre-greased; smile suspicious.

[Verse 1]
I hover over mac ’n’ glue,
cough tick flirts—uh—don’t you.
One tiny mist—horror bloom,
cheese strings form a saint of doom.

[PRE: Witness Whisper]
“Did you see that?” “I saw that.”
“Say nothing.” “Say lots.”

[CHORUS — CROWD]
Sneeze guard breach—oh no, oh yes,
spit mosaics bless this mess.
If dignity’s a salad tongs,
flip the tray and sing along.

[POST — CHANT]
ONE—wipe, TWO—slide, THREE—hide, FOUR—“it’s fine.”

[CASE FILE 002]
Time stamp 12:07 — “Crouton lands on someone’s shoe.”
Notes: shoe accepts baptism; owner denies relationship.

[Verse 2]
Gravy wave kisses my sleeve,
soft-serve coughs a winter eave.
Kid points loud—“you’re dripping meat!”
I dab, I grin, I shuffle-feet.

[PRE: Manager Aside]
“Sir… napkins exist.”
“Ma’am… so do miracles.”

[CHORUS — CROWD]
Sneeze guard breach—oh no, oh yes,
mashed-potato stress test.
If shame goes cold, reheat it quick—
swallow pride in public brick.

[BREAK — CALL & RESPONSE]
(Health code voice:) “Violation cited.”
(Crowd:) “Cited!”
(Health code voice:) “Area quarantined.”
(Crowd:) “Quaran—what?”

[DROP]
(PA barks:) “STEP AWAY FROM THE HOT BAR.”

[DEPOSITION — RUSH]
(Q:) “Did you knowingly mist the tray?”
(A:) “Knowingly? …My lungs said ‘hey.’”
(Q:) “And what did you do next?”
(A:) “Tasted fate. Cleared my hex.”

[Verse 3]
Mac slab slides, fries go slick,
someone slips in ranchy brick.
I grab a tray like riot shield,
march through stew—refuse to yield.

[BRIDGE — LIST OF SINS]
Item one: sample grave.
Item two: sneeze-wave rave.
Item three: fork in sauce.
Item four: schedule loss.

[CROWD-CHOP — COUNT]
FIVE—gag, SIX—laugh, SEVEN—swear, EIGHT—photograph.

[Verse 4]
Grandma hoots, “I’ve seen worse stuff,”
dips a roll, says “that’s enough.”
I toast the room with cola phlegm,
declare a truce, appoint a hem.

[Double CHORUS — FULL HOUSE]
Sneeze guard breach—oh no, oh yes,
saints of steam and carpet stress.
If dignity’s a buffet song,
pile it high and sing it wrong.
Sneeze guard breach—line moves on,
we bless the stain and carry on.
I stamp the napkin: “case is closed,”
mouth goes “ha,” eyes stay “posed.”

[TAG — EXIT LOG]
Time stamp 12:22 — “Subject leaves dining area.”
Notes: shirt shiny, soul sticky, vibe… immaculate.

2338/7500

[CASE FILE 001] Time stamp 12:03 PM — “Customer approaches hot bar.” Notes: plate already shiny; fork pre-greased; smile suspicious. [Verse 1] I hover over mac ’n’ glue, cough tick flirts—uh—don’t you. One tiny mist—horror bloom, cheese strings form a saint of doom. [PRE: Witness Whisper] “Did you see that?” “I saw that.” “Say nothing.” “Say lots.” [CHORUS — CROWD] Sneeze guard breach—oh no, oh yes, spit mosaics bless this mess. If dignity’s a salad tongs, flip the tray and sing along. [POST — CHANT] ONE—wipe, TWO—slide, THREE—hide, FOUR—“it’s fine.” [CASE FILE 002] Time stamp 12:07 — “Crouton lands on someone’s shoe.” Notes: shoe accepts baptism; owner denies relationship. [Verse 2] Gravy wave kisses my sleeve, soft-serve coughs a winter eave. Kid points loud—“you’re dripping meat!” I dab, I grin, I shuffle-feet. [PRE: Manager Aside] “Sir… napkins exist.” “Ma’am… so do miracles.” [CHORUS — CROWD] Sneeze guard breach—oh no, oh yes, mashed-potato stress test. If shame goes cold, reheat it quick— swallow pride in public brick. [BREAK — CALL & RESPONSE] (Health code voice:) “Violation cited.” (Crowd:) “Cited!” (Health code voice:) “Area quarantined.” (Crowd:) “Quaran—what?” [DROP] (PA barks:) “STEP AWAY FROM THE HOT BAR.” [DEPOSITION — RUSH] (Q:) “Did you knowingly mist the tray?” (A:) “Knowingly? …My lungs said ‘hey.’” (Q:) “And what did you do next?” (A:) “Tasted fate. Cleared my hex.” [Verse 3] Mac slab slides, fries go slick, someone slips in ranchy brick. I grab a tray like riot shield, march through stew—refuse to yield. [BRIDGE — LIST OF SINS] Item one: sample grave. Item two: sneeze-wave rave. Item three: fork in sauce. Item four: schedule loss. [CROWD-CHOP — COUNT] FIVE—gag, SIX—laugh, SEVEN—swear, EIGHT—photograph. [Verse 4] Grandma hoots, “I’ve seen worse stuff,” dips a roll, says “that’s enough.” I toast the room with cola phlegm, declare a truce, appoint a hem. [Double CHORUS — FULL HOUSE] Sneeze guard breach—oh no, oh yes, saints of steam and carpet stress. If dignity’s a buffet song, pile it high and sing it wrong. Sneeze guard breach—line moves on, we bless the stain and carry on. I stamp the napkin: “case is closed,” mouth goes “ha,” eyes stay “posed.” [TAG — EXIT LOG] Time stamp 12:22 — “Subject leaves dining area.” Notes: shirt shiny, soul sticky, vibe… immaculate.

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