There's a minivan with the doors bashed in out in front of The Golden Corral
Three sweaty slack jawed broads fall out, ready to devour a cow.
They storm on in while the concrete cracks and the hostesses start to pray
Please God Almighty don't let big mama clog up the toilet today.

First to get destroyed is the mac n cheese with the strawberry Pop-Tart crust
Diet Coke reacting with gravy and cheese, stomachs beginning to bust.
Poop stained sweatpants picks at his crotch, then fingers the taco meat
Greasy Belly slides along buffet, mashed potatoes all over his feet.

20 screaming hell sent mohawked freaks snorting sugar packets up their nose
While red faced big mama sucks hot fudge through a yard sale garden hose.
Now greasy belly ate too much, so he gets up and starts to trot
Flops on into the bathroom, dumps in the urinal instead of the pot.

10 million calories consumed this day, and only 12 people are dead
War broke out over the sheet cake, a glass of pop shattered on my head.
If you want to lose faith in America, or see a downturn in your morale
Spend a Sunday with a notepad in a booth at The Golden Corral.