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“I now call this brainstorming session to ohdah!” Donnie Wahlberg shouted, banging his fist on the table.
“Shaddup, Donnie,” Mark said.
The wastepaper basket was FULL of wastepaper. Everyone was drenched in sweat and irritable already. They’d only been working on ideas for two minutes and already everyone wanted to kill each other. It was like the movie 12 Angry Men, but only 2 men, and just coming up with a vanity name for a garbage restaurant, not being the deciding jury in a case of life or death. But, similar. “I think the first thing we need to decide is what kind of food we want to make,” Donnie said. Mark nodded. Donnie had a good point. They should figure out what kind of food they wanted to make and maybe that would help them come up with a really good name for the restaurant. “Chinese?” Donnie said. “I like Chinese food.”
“You fuckin’ mook,” Mark said. “Chinese food is wicked hahd to make.”
“Sure,” Donnie said. “But then we could call our restaurant The Great Wahlberg of China.”
Damn it if Donnie didn’t make a good point. Fuckin’ Donnie. But they couldn’t open up a Chinese restaurant. What were they, a coupla queahs? Mark just shook his head and gave Donnie a black eye for even thinkin’ about it.
“What about, like, soul food? You know, barbecue and collard greens and stuff like that?” Donnie flinched as if he was about to get hit again.
“What would we call a place like that?”
“Wahlberg-b-q.”
“That’s not bad, actually.” Mark Wahlberg fired his assistant and scratched his chin and then called his assistant and pleaded with them to come back to work. “Do we know how to make soul food?”
“We don’t know how to make any food, Mahk.”
Right.
“Alright, well, write it down. Let’s make sure we consider all our options first.” Mark was a entrepreneur.
“Or,” Donnie said meekly, “I’m just spitballing here, but we do a real farm-to-table locavore kind of thing, all the ingredients sourced from local producers, but, like, nice. A high-end, classy place, where we just serve the food that we want to cook. Diners can choose from one or two seasonal tasting menus. We call it Wahlperg Se.”
Mark Wahlberg beat the shit out of Donnie Wahlberg, put the kid in the hawspital. When Donnie returned to the brainstorming session, Mark ran his hands through his haiah. He was handsome and exhausted from so much brainstorming! “Fuck it,” he finally said. “We’ll open a hamburger restaurant. Call it Wahlburgers.”
“That’s good, Mahk,” Donnie said.
“Yeah, I fuckin’ know it is, Donnie.”
Mark threw his chair against the wall and went into his room to masturbate to an episode of Entourage. He was a gawddamn genius.
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Welcome to Wahlburger. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.
I heard that Wahlburgers are made from 100% USDA I [Heart] Huckabeef.
I also heard that Shaft is a bad mother-
: (
*Shut Your Mouth*
Boo!
PAH!
The Food Library would be a rad name.
I used to live near a restaurant called The Library Alehouse. I think it had a bookcase in it at first but then they took that out to make room for another table, probably. So it should just be called The Alehouse now but they never changed the name. I could write more sentences about it, but I will stop here.
Neat story, Hemingway but I was making a Metalocalypse reference. Rad reference.
god i hate finland. i need 100 beers.
For sale: animatronic wolf-thing, never disappointing.
What about Dooly App-ahnted Fed-ah-rahl Maw-shalls?
What ah you, a retahd?
(s)Hooters
I feel like I’m in Boston right now
How about a doggie day-care business called Barky Bark?
Boorger Nights: where the food is Max Payne-stakingly crafted by Four Brothers who create a Perfect Storm of flavors that are Invincible. After they try the food, everyone will say Boorger Nights is The Happeningest place in town.
Wahlberg is no Renaissance Man. I Fear this venture is going to be a bust.
Try out fifteen inch hoagie, the Pork Diggler.
The Italian Restaurant
A seafood restaurant called Three King Crabs
Come on people, join me in this BNPG!
A BBQ place known for its ribs called the The Lovely Bones
A wine bar called Planet of the Grapes.
Ok, I think I’ll call it quits now.
Planet of the Crepes, duh.
Crepe by Crepe (if pronounced with a short e) Ooh Baby
At the regular bar they serve Marky Wahlbangers.
Marky Mark’s Funky Brunch
Three King Crabs.
New Kids on the Wok
Boogie Fries
Good Pie-brations by Marky Mark
Can’t believe they didn’t go with, “New Burger On The Block”.
Maison Tourage
their foot long hotdog will be called “mark’s penis in that underwear advertisement in a hotdog foot long sandwich, what do you want to fight abou it?!”, and by night the restaurant becomes a club called ‘shooters’. there will also be a “B-Grade” menu, chosen by Mark, and a “C-Grade” menu, put together by Donnie…you know…to coincide with their respective levels of celebrity.
I’ll see myself out.
“Mark was a entrepreneur.”
Brilliant.
“Hey cow, how’s it going? Wanna be made into a hamburger? Didn’t think so. Say hi to your mother for me”
Fighter Fries?
maybe they should do a late night/early morning drunnk/hangover food place called “Please Don’t Go Hurl”