This Is Not A Good Time, Not A Good Time


Pop-up restaurants are like pop-up books, once you’ve seen one, they’re all pretty stupid.

Taking advantage of the uncomfortable silence, Raina Lott stepped forward and spoke; softly, but with a steady confidence. “I killed Helen last night.”

If memory served her correctly, which it did not, she faultily recalled that admission of guilt is best divulged to one’s peers at mandatory work-related events, which this was. It was a grand opening party for the pop-up restaurant she just started working at.

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