The waiter said, “Welcome to Harrington’s Restaurant where anything is possible.”
“Menus?” said Mitch as he and Sylvie sat.
“No need. Order anything.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
Mitch snorted. “I’ll have the rib of Woolly Rhino.”
“Stop it, Mitch,” groaned Sylvie.
“Very good, sir,” said the waiter. He took Sylvie’s order and left.
Sylvie hissed at Mitch. “Stop being a jerk!”
Ten minutes later, a huge man walked in splattered with blood and carrying a massive gun. He said, “Who ordered the Woolly rib?”
“Now you’ve done it, Mitch,” quavered Sylvie.
Timidly, Mitch said, “I was kidding, really.”
“No worries, mate. Your ribs will be done in a jiffy! Hope you’re hungry.”
______________________________
Written for the Friday Fictioneers: https://rochellewisoff.com/2022/01/26/28-january-2022/
EagleAye
Momus News 
Dear Eric,
Oooh the possibilities are endless. And I only thought to order burnt ends. 😉 Fun story. No spews though.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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After chowing down on the wooly rhino rib, did Mitch suddenly grow a large mono-brow and begin grunting ‘Thog like meat! Thog want more!’? Asking for a friend…:-)
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Hahaha!
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Are you sure their names weren’t Fred and Wilma?
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Beats a crocodile sandwich. Although, dinosaur soup would have been impressive.
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Order in haste and repent at leisure.
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Poor Woolly Rhino 😮
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Be careful what you wish for. Well done.
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Oh, that’s funny! Mitch got his comeuppance, didn’t he?
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Woolly rhino ribs might be the next big craze on the foodie circuit now. You’ll have started something here. Good fun.
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While he eats, I’d like to look around that restaurant that must have a time travel machine hidden somewhere. Fun story.
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