Restaurant Guy: (Humming) (Sings) You are not alone … I am here with you…
Customer: Ey yo, Ey yo Chang Wang, what’s up.
Restaurant Guy: I’ll be right out. Right. Wait. One second. Okay, then. Fine. Your order.
Customer: Lemme get, um, lemme get two of them beef fried rices over there. Lemme get a half a chicken wing. Don’t put that little, little retarded leg in it —
Restaurant Guy: — Right —
Customer: — just cut that off. Don’t put no onion in my white rice.
Customer: Yo yo yo. I need four chicken wings fried hard.
Restaurant Guy: What’s this? Hold on? What’s this? The two of you? At once? Okay, then. You want beef.
Customer: No no no, we want beef to eat. We got no beef.
Customer: I want four chicken wings fried hard, n*gga, what the fuck is you talking ‘bout.
Restaurant Guy: All right. I’ll kick your monkey asses my fucking self.
Customer: Whoa whoa, what are you coming over the counter for?
Restaurant Guy: You think I open a restaurant in the middle of the hood and don’t know what’s going on? I fucking represent.
Customer: I’ll fuck you the fuck up.
Restaurant Guy: I will avenge my brothers by representing and whooping your asses, word is bond.
Customer: This ain’t Channel 5, n*gga, somebody gonna die.
Restaurant Guy: Okay, then. I will show you Flying Fist of Judah.
Customer: You ain’t gonna show me shit.
Restaurant Guy: That’s right.
Customer: I’ll show you these nuts.
Restaurant Guy: You and you.
Customer: Straight from Mortal Kombat.
Restaurant Guy: You’re just talking. Obviously the two of you are just bitch-ass n*ggers.
Customer: N*gga, well then do something, you talking all your bullshit.
Customer: So what’s up, so what’s up?
Restaurant Guy: All right. This is a Chinese restaurant, but like Burger King, have it your way.
Customer: Ah! This n*gga here …
Thanks to Arvin for putting this in my head again. Haha.