The Son-In-Law Shot to Fame (Donald and Jennifer)

Chapter 1097 Pigswill Should Be Fed To Pigs



Chapter 1097 Pigswill Should Be Fed To Pigs

“Indeed, it was me. What's the problem?”

Seeing Donald admit so readily, Valerie, on the contrary, dared not act rashly anymore.

She gave him a once-over, noticing that the young man was not only fair and clean but also looked rather innocuous. Moreover, his attire was quite proper, making it apparent at a glance that he was not a construction site worker.

In a deep voice, she questioned, “Fella, you're not from our construction site, are you? Do you have any idea who my brother-in-law is? Are you tired of living? Trust you to be stirring up trouble on our construction site.”

“I know your brother-in-law is Wilbur Jackle.” Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

“How dare you still be so arrogant, then?”

Picking up the metal ladle from the ground, Donald stirred the pickled pigs' feet. “Initially, I planned to inspect the construction site and then go have a heart-to-heart with your brother-in-law. But after seeing the meals you guys provide for the workers here, I truly can't stand it anymore.”

He went on, “I'll wrap up the inspection for today. You there, give your brother-in-law a call and tell him to get his ass here to see me.”

Brazen! How brazen!

This fellow's actually demanding Wilbur to get his ass here while on Wilbur's turf.

Does he think he's the king of the world?

Just as Valerie was about to intimidate Donald, he abruptly slammed the metal ladle onto the fingers of that man at the side.

Crack!

The crisp sound of a finger bone breaking sent chills down everyone's spines.

Now, the middle-aged man whose face was scalded didn't even know which area to tend to first for the pain.

His howl shattered Valerie's last shred of illusion.

She understood now that the man standing before her was not someone who could be easily scared off with a few words.

Looks like I really have to ask Wilbur to come and handle this.

While Valerie moved aside to make the call, Donald showed no intentions of letting this middle-aged man off the hook.

He picked up the metal ladle and tapped it on the man's head, saying indifferently, “As I said earlier, pigswill should be fed to pigs. Since you guys are just idling around anyway, come over here and finish all this pigswill for me. It won't be good to waste food.”

“Huh?”

At this moment, the man was filled with extreme regret.

The food laid out before them was enough to feed more than thirty people.

Even if the four of them were big eaters, there was no way they could finish all of this.

“What's the matter? Are you not willing to?” Donald snickered. “If so, I won't force you. You all can go wash your faces in this pot instead.”

The man's face had already been singed once by Donald. Hence, how could he dare to let it happen again? That'd simply be shooting himself in the foot.

He hurriedly said, “I'll eat it. I'll eat right away.”

Under Donald's watchful eye, the four men each picked up their cutlery, squatted in front of the counter, and began their meal.

They were serving such terrible food only because they were cutting corners. This so-called pigswill was, of course, not what they'd eat in their daily lives.

Therefore, as soon as the food entered their mouths, each of them started to retch and almost threw up bile.

Still, Donald remained unmoved. Pointing at the stuff they had thrown up on the ground, he ordered, “I told you guys to eat it, not to throw it up. Keep going.”

D*mmit! This kid is pushing it too far!

“I'm not a f*cking pig! If you like it so much, you eat it!” A plump chef was also ready to risk it all. He stood up, determined to go down with Donald.

Sadly, he had truly thought too highly of himself.

Facing the plump chef, who was charging over, Donald simply stepped back a little, and the former tumbled like a ball, landing heavily on the ground.

A metal ladle was shoved straight into the fat man's mouth, helping to pry it open.

Donald picked up a bowl of pickled pigs' feet with one hand and poured the contents directly into the fat man's mouth.

“Stop...” Glug! “I was wrong...”

Only then did the fat man want to admit his mistake, but it was all too late.


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