If you were on the run from a relative who you just broke their favorite chinese lamp, what would you do?

Of course, you’d run, but isn’t that obvious? I thought it was, so I hid in a sushi bar. I know what you’re thinking. Where the heck are you going to find a sushi bar? It’s not very hard when you’re visiting with your crazy aunt in Chinatown who barely speaks english. The sushi bar was packed with people. Wow, I didn’t know how many people really liked sushi. My dad tried to make me try it one time, and it was nasty. I quickly hid behind the counter.

“What are you doing behind there? Get out! NOW !!” An old chinese man shouted at me.

“No, no I need to stay here, please, I’m in a really tight situation!” I pleaded in that oh- so appealing way of mine.

“Fine, but you need to help make sushi. NO PAY ! Just go!” Mr. Chinese Dude shouted at me.

Make sushi with no pay? This was going to be more than I bargained for. I hate sushi.
*The sequel to this story is “Sushi is made out of WHAT ???”