Congratulations Dumb Waiter!

When you walk up to the table and let a fart rip, you won't even have the good grace to act embarrassed.  Instead you'll roll your eyes and say, with that smug look on your face:

"What do you tardfucks want to eat at this shitbox?"

The man at the table will stand up, sputtering.

"Well I never!" he'll announce to the room, which will only happen to include you in this instance.  "As the mayor of this town, I refuse to tolerate such outrageous behavior from a service-person at a fine dining establishment!"

"Harumph!" his wife will announce in concurrence, throwing the entire room into a symphony of concurrent harumphs.  You'll be pulled off the floor by the shift manager, who will take you back to his office and tell you that you're fired.  He'll try to keep you from shitting on his desk and leaving out the back alley, explaining that every patron in the restaurant will be waiting out there to kick your ass, but you won't listen.  You'll be too busy shouting about how Coldplay rules to even hear what he's saying.

After you finish your shit and head outside, you'll be genuinely surprised when you're hit in the face with a bike chain.  You'll be just as surprised by the tire iron in your kidney, the hammer in the back of your skull, and so on, and so forth, until finally, hoarse from shouting "Zep rules!" at your assailants, they give up on teaching you a lesson and go back inside to enjoy a fully comped dinner, courtesy of your appalling manners.

Congratulations Dumb Waiter!