The Lunatic Cafe

My names is Doctor Rick Dagless M.D. and deciding that I needed a drink after the startling morning I've had visa a vie waking to my gardener, the man whom I hired to nurture and care for the lawn and plants around my homestead in Serenity Hills, going herbicidal maniac I decided to drop by the local pub and eatery named Lunatic Cafe.

The day started when I awoke at the crack of noon to the sounds of a high pitched buzzing noise plus the sounds of maniacal laughter. Springing from my bed like the well oiled panther I am, I stubbed my toe on the bedside stand and cursed loudly and longly.
Taking the time to dress in my chosen set of clothing for the day and my medical jacket, cause there is never a reason for a qualified doctor, nay do I say a healing god like myself to be seen without my medi-jacket, even if I am off duty at the moment from Darkplace Hospital where I work, I rushed out to see what the laughter and buzzing was about.

There I found Manson, my aforementioned gardener and chosen caretaker of all things plant like around my domicile dementedly attacking the lovely and delicate Alba Maximum with a weed whacker.

Alba Maximum being the large white rose bushes around the front entrance of my home. The herbicidal maniac had shredded most of Alba's delicate petals and they were strewn haphazardly across the front lawn.

I could describe the scene as drops of blood across an emerald carpet except for a few things. One being that Alba Maximum is a white rose and my front lawn already looked like crap with yellow dead grass.

Come to think of it, Manson was really a crappy gardener and I should have fired him months ago.

So reacting appropriately, I pulled my gun from my trousers and shot Manson between the eyes.

Oh don't get me wrong. It wasn't because he slaughtered two innocent rose bushes that I shot him. It wasn't even that he was obviously possessed by some evil demon of Hell that for some reason didn't like white roses.
No it was cause the bugger upon seeing me dropped his weed whacker and pulled a machete from his own front trousers and rushed to attack me.

Which by the way, if any young people had witnessed that this morning, they should be informed straight a way. Never store long sharp objects down the front of your trousers. Circumcisions should only be performed by qualified medical personnel or elderly men of the Jewish persuasions.
Something I don't think Manson was either of.

So after dealing with my now ex-gardener and having to explain to the local boys in blue what had happened, I felt the need for a few stiff drinks and a bit of breakfast.
I wasn't going to drink to dull the pain of loss of life, even though the Alba Maximums were my favorite flowers on my property, but just because I felt I could use some booze and food at the moment. Maybe more the booze than food but after that, who wouldn't?

So I found myself standing inside the entrance to the Lunatic Cafe pondering the twists and turns and mysteries of life. Visa a vie, just how long was I going to have to wait for a waitress to show up and seat me at a table this morning?