Job Swap Shenanigans

Transcription:

Och, ye daft eejit, gather roond fer anither tale o’ the infamous Kevin an' Lance, those two absolute numpties who seem tae turn everythin' they touch intae a disaster. It all started on a dreich Monday mornin’. Kevin, slingin' donuts at the local shop, and Lance, makin' sandwiches fer the office drones, were sick tae their teeth wi' their borin' jobs. "I've had it wi' this shite," Kevin moaned, his apron covered in powdered sugar. "We need tae shake things up." Lance, always up fer a half-baked idea, agreed. "Aye, let's swap jobs. Ye dae sandwiches, an' I'll dae donuts. Easy peasy, right?" Wi' that brilliant plan, the two set off tae their new roles, ready tae make a royal mess. Kevin, now in Lance’s sandwich shop, decided tae showcase his culinary ‘skills’. “Wait’ll they try my haggis sandwich,” he boasted, rememberin' the one thin' he didnae flunk at in cookin' school, even if it made folk puke like they'd been poisoned. He slapped together haggis, neeps, and tatties between two slices o’ bread and started servin' them up tae unsuspectin' customers. Within the hour, the shop turned intae a scene frae a horror film. Folk were pukin' everywhere – on the tables, the floors, each ither. The place was a swirlin' vortex o' vomit. Kevin stood there, proud as punch, until he realized the extent o’ the chaos. "Aw, shite!" he exclaimed, skiddin' on a puddle o' sick. "This didnae go as planned!" Meanwhile, Lance had taken over the donut shop, thinkin' it was the cushiest gig in town. He dumped a heap o' dough intae the oven, set it tae max, an' decided tae nip oot tae the alley fer a quick smoke o' the devil’s lettuce. Lazin' aboot in a haze o’ green smoke, he lost track o’ time. When he finally staggered back inside, the smell hit him like a ton o’ bricks – the donut shop was ablaze! "Och, bloody hell!" Lance yelped, eyes wide as saucers, seein' the inferno spreadin' through the shop. Wi' nae a thought tae extinguish it, he bolted, leggin' it doon the street jist as Constable Hamish showed up, scratchin' his heid at the sight o’ the fiery bakery. By the end o’ the day, both shops were wrecked, an’ our heroes were sittin’ in a pub, reekin’ o’ smoke an’ sick, ponderin’ their catastrophic career choices. "Well, that wis a shambles," Kevin admitted, nursin' a pint. "Aye," Lance agreed, wipin' soot off his face. "Maybe we’re better aff stickin' tae what we ken." An’ so, the tale o' Kevin an' Lance’s job switcheroo went doon in history as a lesson tae all – accept yer station in life, unless ye fancy a day filled wi' puke an' fire. Slàinte, ye dafties!