Highly suggestible that you read Ode to IHOP first. So naturally I ensure this one is first on the page lol. Intentionally bad prose, not even written in a true ode style or with any real rhyming scheme, and I don't care.
Sometimes ya gotta write some bad shit about sub-par quality restaurants, I reckon.
At one a.m., you're the warrior, standing guard against the onslaught of our enemies. The lone soldier on a pale horse, battling against the invading horde of boredom and hunger.
At two a.m., you're the king, dictating to the people what is good and what law is. You lay down the rules with endless pancakes and endless coffee of questionable taste, and betimes the odd delightful specialty plate.
At three a.m., you're a God. My friends and I gather at your temples and give charity, preaching your cause even as we devour you. Your biscuits and gravy are fucking awesome, and those pancakes....the bounty of your pancakes and ever-flowing coffee never cease.
Lord of the night and savior of the day - when waiting for a bus, you're the best thing in the world. Coffee and pancakes, a book in hand, the morning beautiful and the people interesting.
Yearly you open your doors and give back to those who have given you so much - a free meal to all who wish it. Your charity is as great as your syrup is good, your eggs and hashbrowns perfect, your bacon crisp.
May you never fall!
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