Novel & Cerita Hazbin Hotel Food

While inspecting the hotel owned by my family, I start to feel hungry after ordering some food at the hotel restaurant. Before the food is served, I munch on a small piece of bread roll for the time being. Suddenly, the lobby manager comes up to me and hands me a piece of paper. "Hello, sir. We do not allow outside food here. It has been 8 minutes and 30 seconds since you entered our restaurant. The total cost of your meal is 1,500 dollars. You'll be fined 1.28 million dollars." I am briefly stunned as I look at the piece of paper detailing the amount I should pay. Then, I take a picture of the piece of paper and send it to the group chat that has all the members of the board of directors. I tag my elder sister in the next message I send. "I've received a fine at the hotel owned by my family. Is this how you've increased the hotel's revenue?"

At the five-star hotel where the blind date was set, leftover takeout was complimentary. I liked their Australian lobster and Poule de Bresse en Vessie. I packed my own portion and even helped box up what my date hadn't finished. Just as I picked up the bags to leave, he grabbed me with a dark look and demanded, "Jennifer, we agreed to split the bill. What gives you the right to take all the food?" I explained that he wouldn't be able to finish it anyway, and if we didn't take it, it would just be thrown away. He let out a cold laugh. "I paid for that food. Even if I toss it, that's none of your concern. Looks to me like you've been waiting for a chance to take advantage. I didn't expect you to be this kind of person. "I'd rather feed these leftovers to a dog than give them to you! And don't bother contacting me again. That petty, small-minded behavior of yours is disgusting." I pressed my lips together, at a complete loss for words. After all… this five-star hotel belonged to my family.

After my girlfriend's father hit someone with a car, he took his own life because he didn't want to get arrested. But in doing so, he left behind a huge debt he had racked up. In order to help my girlfriend pay off the compensation, I work around the clock as a food deliveryman. Every day, I sleep less than four hours just to squeeze in more work. But when I finish delivering a new order, I notice a man clad in a bathrobe standing in front of me at a hotel suite's doorway. He's completely covered in hickeys. A young woman dressed in a sexy nightgown hugs him from behind. "I'm absolutely famished right now because of how long you've been tormenting me in bed earlier, darling! Hurry up and grab the takeout!" I can only stare at the woman, completely shell-shocked. That's when the bag of takeout slips off my fingers and crashes onto the floor. The woman takes a step backward. Her brows drawn into a frown, she exclaims, "How are my boyfriend and I supposed to enjoy the food now that it's all dirty?" After that, she kicks the takeout at me right away, spilling grease all over my clothes. I remain rooted to the spot, still stunned. This woman… is Irene Swensen, my girlfriend who's about to get engaged to me.

After I succeed in helping my wife, Claire Gibson, establish her company, I decide to become a full-time stay-at-home dad without a worry in the world. Since my daughter, Nancy Davidson's 10th birthday is coming soon, I want to make the event fancy. So, I decide to place an order on Hill Hotel's birthday banquet services, where one full table of food costs 18 thousand dollars. When I'm swiping my card, the hotel employee shoots me a look. "Mr. Davidson, your card can barely foot for a 500-dollar bill." Embarrassed, I go home and question Claire about the family's finances. She looks at me apologetically instead. "My company has been participating in a bidding process lately. The newly-appointed governmental senior official is a greedy one, you see. I've spent quite a lot of money in bribing him just to get things done. "Once my cash flow is back, I'll definitely throw Nancy a fancy birthday banquet!" In a considerate manner, I tell Claire that I completely understand her situation. But soon, I start calculating the assets I still have. After all, my dad is the newly-appointed official. There aren't any bidding processes going on in the government at all. I'd like to see where on earth Claire has spent all of her money.

Each of my three ex-boyfriends ends up committing suicide right after eating food that my mother, Florence Winters, makes. Their deaths are very different from one another, with the only similarity being that they all eat food made by Mom before they die. Mom goes viral in an instant. She becomes the center of everyone's attention, and she is even taken away by the police. But they never manage to find anything wrong with any of the food she makes. I don't dare to get into another relationship. I pack my things and move out of the house, leaving Mom. Two years later, Mom shows up at my engagement party. She proceeds to feed my fiance, Lawrence Smith, some food…

During the heatwave apocalypse, I didn't die due to the heat, nor did I die in a conflict. My younger sister, Amber Carter, has a "heart of gold" by nature. She couldn't bear to see the people suffering in the apocalypse, so she gave away all the food in our cellar. After we ran out of food, Amber forced me to go look for food outside in the heat. That was how I died—from the heat outside. In this lifetime, I'm going to enjoy my ice-cold watermelon while watching Amber dig her grave with her own hands.

My competitive eater classmate, Selina Reeves, bound me to a fat transfer system. No matter how much food she ate, I was the one who gained weight. Later, she was named one of the top 100 food bloggers while I ballooned to 200 pounds and lost my job. My boyfriend did not seem to mind. He even proposed with unwavering confidence. A month later, Selina entered a competitive eating contest and devoured 20 pounds of ribs in one sitting. The excessive fat intake triggered acute hypertension, and I died on the spot. My husband inherited my substantial fortune, then turned around and married Selina without a second thought. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself three months in the past. Selina's food streaming career was just starting to gain traction, and I still weighed 90 pounds. This time, I snatched the ten-inch cake right out of her hands and ate every last bite. She had no idea I had bound myself to a food transfer system. No matter how much I ate, it would transfer to her stomach tenfold.

I'm dressed in flip-flops and shorts when making an inspection of the five-star hotel my husband just acquired. When the front office manager spots me, she immediately calls for security with a disgusted look on her face. "The hotel's WiFi isn't meant for people like you to use. Hurry up and pay me 200 thousand dollars in Internet costs, then get lost!" I calmly tell her that I'm the owner of the hotel, but that only makes her sneer. "The owner of the hotel? Hey, old hag, you're putting on an act in front of the real deal! This hotel was a birthday gift from my husband to me. Aren't you fantasizing a bit too much?" Oh? Since when did Ian Lambert get another wife behind my back?

Clever has never thought he would end up like this: bathed and fed by a human who calls him Cutie, for Moon Goddess's sake, he is an Alpha! "How can I flee the horrible place? Seems no way! Er--" mumbling, he is being caressed by her, and here comes the food he hates most. "No more pet food!" What will an Alpha do when he has to stay in his wolf form and is mistaken for a husky? "Come on, you little Cutie, I'm sorry." "Don't call me Cutie." A man suddenly appeared and said so.

Campus food deliveries vanished so often that no one even commented anymore. Then it happened to me again and again. I never identified the thief, but by New Year's Eve I was finished with being an easy mark. I set out a bowl of soup as bait and soaked it with water wrung from an old bathroom mop. I meant to make whoever stole it regret touching my food. A week later, the police did not come for the thief. They came for me. The counselor slid a penalty notice across his desk—600 dollars for food costs and medical fees, due next week. The person who ate my food had been hospitalized for "poisoning." The school was already discussing a major demerit, the cancellation of my first-class scholarship, and the loss of my needs-based stipend. That stipend was the money keeping my sick mother alive. They planned to pin everything on me, shield the real culprit, and bury me under paperwork. Unfortunately for them, they chose the wrong target. I was the law department's resident argument addict, and I intended to turn their dirty little mediation into a public collapse.