Locals Demand Chicken Wings As Reparations

This is a very difficult time for the staff at the Venango Republic who frequently visited the Infusion Bar. Being we are based in Oil City and have low self esteem, we would often make the drive to Infusion just to observe and feel better about ourselves. The crappy dance floor, unmaintained bathrooms, and lowlife management helped remind us that there are things more decrepit than Oil City in existence.

Nobody on our staff drinks alcohol. Oil City has not driven us to that point yet. Nonetheless, our journalists would often order rounds of Infusions boneless chicken wings to help lift their spirits. Those chicken wings are the only thing our staff liked about the bar, which is why we are desperate to make negotiations for them.

It goes without saying that reparations must be made for the insensitive comments which were made by the manager at Loomis. We here at the Venango Republic have thoroughly thought this out and have determined what must be done.

Firstly, the manager who made those comments must agree to enter a French fries bobbing competition where the fries are floating in a grease fryer at five thousand degrees. We believe sticking his face in the grease will be an improvement.

Secondly, the owner must agree to get a swirly in the toilet that was never maintained in the men's bathroom. Frequent visitors of Infusion know what we are talking about. You could literally see the vomit in the bowl from preexisting hangovers.

Thirdly, the establishments must surrender their boneless chicken wings as reparations to the community. This includes giving a portion to the white people because let's face it, even though we weren't the target, those wings were freaking good.

Fourthly, the management must agree to eat their crappy dollar mini tacos to see what the hell they put their customers through. Yes, we here at the Venango Republic think those tacos were crap.

Fifthly, all college staff members who walked out must be given their University degrees by default because they freaking owned it!

Sixthly, the Doofis from Loomis must be forced to listen to that "black music" he doesn't like. The man will be locked in that rundown Infusion dance room with the music he hates only to be fed those horrendous dollar tacos.

Finally, the owner of both bars must denote himself to janitor and clean those freaking bathrooms with his tongue.

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