High-Class IHOP

Marc was having a hankering for IHOP one evening, so we took a short road trip to Alexandria for some hot cakes and hash browns. Halfway through my overdone eggs, Marc asked me what was laying near my head on the back of the booth. When I turned around, I saw this, someone's dirty, bloody, yellow-stained band aid. Gross! It will be a cold day in hell before I go to another IHOP.
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