The veteran fry cook whipped his spatula in a flamboyant Z-formation as he stepped to the mouth of the howling dungeon.  He cocked his Burger King visor to the side, then adjusted his crotch while he spat onto the ground.  He'd heard about all of the hungry monsters inside this dungeon and knew he was just the guy to serve them all a mean lunch.  He stepped through the threshold, spatula in one hand, and a fry scooper in the other.