Instal Steam
login
|
bahasa
简体中文 (Tionghoa Sederhana)
繁體中文 (Tionghoa Tradisional)
日本語 (Bahasa Jepang)
한국어 (Bahasa Korea)
ไทย (Bahasa Thai)
Български (Bahasa Bulgaria)
Čeština (Bahasa Ceko)
Dansk (Bahasa Denmark)
Deutsch (Bahasa Jerman)
English (Bahasa Inggris)
Español - España (Bahasa Spanyol - Spanyol)
Español - Latinoamérica (Bahasa Spanyol - Amerika Latin)
Ελληνικά (Bahasa Yunani)
Français (Bahasa Prancis)
Italiano (Bahasa Italia)
Magyar (Bahasa Hungaria)
Nederlands (Bahasa Belanda)
Norsk (Bahasa Norwegia)
Polski (Bahasa Polandia)
Português (Portugis - Portugal)
Português-Brasil (Bahasa Portugis-Brasil)
Română (Bahasa Rumania)
Русский (Bahasa Rusia)
Suomi (Bahasa Finlandia)
Svenska (Bahasa Swedia)
Türkçe (Bahasa Turki)
Tiếng Việt (Bahasa Vietnam)
Українська (Bahasa Ukraina)
Laporkan kesalahan penerjemahan
He says he is hungry.
You agree to get him dinner. You open up to the kids menu; your child is far too young for adult food.
"Chicken Nugger" stares at you from the page. You don't understand.
Your palms get sweaty and your son complains, he says he's hungry, your mind strains searching for an answer, in a world of "Sweer Potato" and "French Fried".
You try to order the chicken nugger but you cannot! The words cannot escape your lips. Your son is hungry he complains. The waitress stares at you her head a spinning chicken nugger, her arms swinging french fried.
Your son cries the tears of a chicken nugger-less child. In your mind you scream, it is raining sweer potato now. You have "French Fried" engraved on your left temple and you do not understand.
Your son weeps in the corner; he is staving, starving for the chicken nugger.