As a plan is formulated with Manager Riley to solve the ‘hell money” mystery, the four slacking employees of the Demon’s Dish receive a final joint sent off for the evening from Hector.
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While fucking fool French bluntly bumbles on, blind as a bat to the best boons in the business, babbling bogus bla-bla besides a brilliant boy-brain, nothing gets done better in any sense justifying spending a cent on such stupid sub-standard staff-manager, as Alex remains criminally under-used for menial jobs, which the whole bunch of numbskulls keeps bumbling up beyond belief for lack of training or any proper instructions, so it’s a miracle some people still actually pay for such slob and simply sloppy service.
Readily resigning to the rotten restaurant relentlessly, reliably failing to fabricate any food fit for a fairly-fine-mannered fellow, owner Hector thinks it wise to expect earnings exclusively in kind, not kindness, copiously castigating the contritely-cueing kids’ clothless cones completely crimson with cruel consistency, culminating in a crushing count of cane-cuts for the clumsiest kitchen-klutz of the week. For the former headmaster, that’s the least he can expect at such pricy investment, at least it’s way faster and less work to ‘work-out’ wickedly-well-whipping on wayward wantons, wriggling worm-wretchedly way worse than naughty knaves did at his office, finally reliably repeatedly, his regular reward every evening, evidently endlessly enjoying, as elderly ‘elder educator’, to eminently exert eerily exposed excruciation expertly.
Luckily as it later turns out, Hector sometimes roams the ratty restaurant for a ‘reason’ to roughly rebuke a ‘rotten’ rascal and readily ravage his rebel-rear ruthlessly red-raw solo, thus after finding Alex reading ‘on the job’ (actually no problem), and enjoying the resulting raw-reddening rod-ride ruthlessly, discovers it’s not pitiful porn filth but an MBA course, which the lower-limbs-lash-lacerated lovely lad proves able to comment on correctly, commences to comprehend this cute, commendably-compliant kid’s covert competences in company-management can constitute a colossal capital if correctly captivated for the cooking and commerce, cutting costs and coaching kids competently.
Hector hurtfully-hesitantly juggles mixed motives, mad at the monetary, maybe main, to make the marvellous MBA-student mend this most miserable management much more methodically and meaningfully. However, having had to miss his hell-houndish headmaster heaven of hiding heavenly humble-hound-hottie-heinies hard-handled as harshly as his horny highness hailed, he hates horribly having to halt his head-like humble-hound-hell-hot-hitting-heaven here, the heavenliest hottie to hide happily-harshly being high-value Alex! So for now, he keeps silent and administers to all ‘asinine adolescent apes’ abundant attire-abandoned-abject-arse-agony all the louder, lavishly lashing lowly-lout-lower-limbs lava-lividly, privately pondering pros and contras of proceeding to proper productivity by promoting the puberal progeny, whose poor perky posterior is pain-pounded particularly plenty ‘while he still can’.
Providentially, the private, in part practically priapic paternalistic pleasures provided by the prized proprietor privilege of perceiving and prolifically purple-paining the peachy prime-puppy-posterior provides his pitiless pain-provider prophetic paired-program-possibilities. Hector isn’t hasted, so can sort of have it both ways: he will sign a contract with Alex’s father, who will eagerly accept to transfer the burden of completely covering the clever kid’s comprehensive college costs, and a generous ‘grant’ to his legacy frat, as a loan which will both be paid in kind in full with hefty interest by Alex spending his holidays for years as free ‘trainee’ manager to teach and train those thickhead thralls thousands of things, subject to spanking over Hector’s knee ad lib, and each day a twink pledge agreed between Hector and pledge-master as Alex’s assistant and above-all to do chores all evening and night at Hector’s pleasure and displeasure, guaranteed to get him scolded, stripped and spanked soundly several times as Sir sees fit to fondle and flail fine fledgling fanny for fuck-ups and fucking flogger-fun. Alex and his frat have something to look forward to in time too: having no close kin or similar heir, Hector leaves each a big share in the restaurant.