Let women stay in the kitchen, Burger King is “kindly” criticized

On the day of “March 8th” International Women’s Day, Burger King’s UK branch posted on social media Twitter that “women should stay in the kitchen”, which was slammed by netizens. According to the US “Washington Post” report on the 9th, although Burger King explained below this tweet that this copy was to promote Burger King’s female chef training plan, it still attracted a lot of controversy.

According to the report, Burger King actually wanted to “provide more female employees with cooking opportunities to change the gender imbalance in the British catering industry.” But netizens did not buy it. They thought such remarks were suspected of discriminating against women and criticized them. Burger King “takes sex discrimination as a hot spot.” Some netizens commented: “There is a better way, but you have to use such slogans to attract attention.” Some netizens even countered: “Burger King should stay in the trash. Bucket.” Even Burger King’s colleague KFC also “makes up” in the comment area: “The best time to delete this tweet is the moment it is posted, followed by now.” At present, Burger King has deleted the original text and reposted it. Wen apologized, saying that the previous tweets were incorrect.

morning found Tom very depressed. That was actually the case every Monday morning, because that was the beginning of a new week of plague and suffering at school. Usually he greeted this day with the wish that there would rather be no holidays at all, for that only made the chains of slavery, which had to be re-established, all the more oppressive and palpable.

Tom lay there and thought. Suddenly the brilliant idea occurred to him: if he were sick now, he wouldn’t have to go to school after all. That was the only way. He examined and tested his entire body system. Nowhere was there even the slightest damage. He checked again. This time he thought he felt faint signs of colicky pain, which he began to lovingly watch with rapidly growing hope. Nevertheless, on closer inspection, they diminished more and more and were soon completely gone. Tom thought again. Suddenly he discovered[54] something. One of his upper teeth wobbled worryingly. He exulted. He was already beginning to prepare for a deep groan, which he wanted to send ahead as an introduction, when the thought occurred to him at the right time that if he brought up this evidence of illness, his aunt would simply pull his tooth out, and that hurt. So he only wanted to come out in an emergency and now think a little further. For a while all his senses were in vain, then he remembered how the doctor had once told about a man to whom something, Tom no longer knew exactly what, something like cold burn or the like, had happened on one bad finger, that the same two had to deal with it for up to three weeks and finally almost lost my finger. Fortunately, Tom was able Having a bad toe that he’d injured somewhere a few days ago. He hurriedly pulled it out from under the covers in order to examine it very carefully. Something could be done with it! Unfortunately he didn’t know the symptoms he had to complain about, but he definitely wanted to try it and so he began to groan loudly and deeply.

But Sid slept quietly and carefree.

Tom groaned louder and suddenly thought he really felt pain in his toe.

Sid made no sign.

Tom was panting from the exertion. He regained his strength for a moment, held his breath, and then let out a neat continuous scale of wonderfully real moans.

Sid kept snoring.

Now Tom was getting angry. He started shaking the stubborn sleeper and yelling, “Sid, Sid”. That worked[55] better and now the moaning began again. Sid yawned, stretched, then propped himself up on his elbow with one last snore and stared at Tom. Tom continued to groan. Finally Sid calls:

“Tom, listen up, Tom!”

No Answer.

“You, Tom, Tom, what’s going on?” And he shook him and stared in fear in his face.

Tom groaned:

“Oh, Sid, let go, you’re hurting me!”

“Lord God, what is it, Tom? I have to call my aunt. ”

“No, leave it alone. It will be over. Don’t call anyone. ”

“Yes, of course, I have to. Don’t moan like that, Tom, that’s terrible. How long has it been hurting you? ”

“Oh, for hours. Ouch, ouch! Shut up, Sid, and leave me alone. ”

“Why didn’t you wake me up earlier? Lord God, Tom, stop it, it makes one miserable to hear you moan like that. Where does it hurt you? ”

“I forgive you for everything, Sid, that you have ever done to me. (Groans) Anything, anything, Sid! When I am dead -”

“Oh, Tom, you won’t die, will you? Say no, Tom, come on, say no. Maybe -”

“I forgive all people, Sid. (Deep moans) Tell everyone. And, Sid, give the beautiful yellow door handle that I have and the one-eyed cat to the girl who recently came and tell her – ”

But Sid had already gathered up his clothes and was gone. Tom was actually suffering now, his imagination worked so vividly and his moaning began to sound frighteningly natural.

[56]

Sid flew down the stairs and called out breathlessly:

“Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, come quickly, Tom is dying!”

“Is dying?”

“Yes, yes, hurry up, don’t ask too long.”

“Stupid things! I can not believe it.”

Still, she rushed up the stairs as fast as they could to carry her old legs, with Mary after her. She too had turned pale and her lips trembled. When she got to the bed, she gasped like this:

“Tom, Tom, what’s up, what’s going on?”

“Oh, aunt, I -”

“What is it – what is it, child, what is wrong with you?”

“Oh, aunt, I – I have terrible pain there on my toe, – I have – yes, I have, I think – the cold burn!”

Sighing in relief, poor aunt now sank down on a chair, laughed a little, cried a little, then did both together, which she restored so far that she could find words:

“Tom, brat, how did you frighten me! But now stop the nonsense and get you out of bed. It’s time to get up! Forward – or I’ll give you something to warm your cold fire! ”

The moaning stopped and the pain disappeared from the toe. Meek and depressed about the failed experiment, the boy said:

“Aunt, really, I thought it must be the cold fire, it hurt so badly that I didn’t even think about my tooth.”

“Your tooth? What’s the matter with the tooth? ”

“Oh, it wobbles and hurts terribly.”

“Well, well, just don’t moan again, it’s completely unnecessary! Mouth open! Yes, it wobbles properly, but you will die from it for a long time[57] Not! Mary, give me a silk thread and get a piece of red-hot coal from the kitchen! ”

In a hurry, Tom called out, suddenly awake:

“Please, please, Auntie, don’t take it off for me, it doesn’t hurt any more. I want to be dead when I feel the slightest thing! Please, please, don’t, auntie, I really don’t want to stay at home and away from school. ”

“Well, you don’t want to stay home, my boy, you don’t want to, do you? So that’s why all the noise! Would you have liked to stay away from school and go fishing for it, right? Well, I know you, Tom, through and through, you’re not kidding me, you brat! Tom, Tom, and I love you so much and you – you just think about how you can break your old aunt’s heart. Go, be ashamed of your black soul! ”

In the meantime the dental instruments had been put on the spot. Aunt tied one end of the silk thread to Tom’s tooth with a noose, while she looped the other around the bedpost so that the thread was taut. Then she grabbed the glowing coal with a pair of tongs and ran it over to Tom’s face. One jerk – and the tooth hung dangling from the bedpost.

But just as every passed test bears its reward, so also this one. When Tom later showed himself on the street with the newly acquired tooth gap, he was an object of envy for all comrades, because none of them was able to spit out in such a new, unprecedented way as Tom now, through the gap in the row of teeth, that. He drew a whole retinue of admirers who were interested in the exhibition, and another boy who had been the center of worship until then because of an injured finger[58] and admiration, suddenly found himself robbed of all his fame, he had to give way without mercy to the newly shining stars and step back into the shadow of nothingness. His heart was heavy, and feigning a contempt that was far from him, he said: it was also a right to spit like Tom Sawyer. Then a mocking resounded to him: sour grapes, sour grapes! against and ashamed he crept aside, a dethroned hero.

On the way to school Tom met the local teenage pariah, Huckleberry Finn, the son of the city’s most famous drunkard. Huckleberry was the object of disgust and hatred of all the mothers of the city, who feared him like the plague, because he was lazy and unruly, raw and evil, as they thought, and because – their own boys marveled at and adored him, literally cared for his forbidden society and would have given anything if they were allowed to be like him. Tom, like all the other “decent, decent boys,” envied Huckleberry his tempting existence, and had been strictly forbidden to ever play with the “bad guy.” Precisely for that reason he did it conscientiously when there was any opportunity – and did it with delight. Huckleberry was always in old discarded clothes of adults, their rags and rags hanging around him. His hat was just the ruin of a previous headgear, the edge of which dangled in tatters on his shoulders. His skirt, if he wore one at all, hung down to his feet and showed the buttons in the back around the back of his knees. Justa porter held his trousers in place, trousers whose spacious seat was too empty and only occasionally billowed in the wind, while the frayed ends dragged in the dirt if they were not rolled up by chance. Huckleberry came[59] and went as he pleased. When the weather was nice he slept on the steps or anywhere else, when the weather was bad in empty barrels, old boxes, or wherever he could crawl under, he was by no means picky. He didn’t need to go to school or church, didn’t need to recognize anyone as a Lord, didn’t need to obey any living soul. He could swim and fish whenever and wherever he wanted, could stay as long as he was comfortable. Nobody forbade him to fight with others, and in the evening he could stay up until midnight or longer, nobody quarreled with him. He was the first to walk barefoot in spring and the last to crawl into the troublesome leather again in autumn. He never had to wash himself, neither did he have to comb his hair, nor put on fresh clothes, and he could curse like an old man, wonderful. In a word everything, everything what makes life beautiful and pleasant, this envied Huckleberry possessed in abundance. That is how every single one of the poor, afflicted, “decent” boys in St. Petersburg thought and felt. Of course, Tom immediately called this most romantic of all heroes:

“Holla, Huckleberry!”

“Holla, yourself!”

[60]

“What you have there?”

“Dead cat.”

“Show me, Huck. God, how stiff! Where did you get it from? ”

“Bought by a boy.”

“What did you give for it?”

“A pig’s bladder and a blue note.”

“Where was the blue note from?”

“From Ben Rogers, a fortnight ago I gave him a splendid crop for it.”

“What can dead cats be used for, Huck?”

“To what? Egg to drive away warts. ”

“No! Truly? I know something better. ”

“You? Will it be right? What?”

“Water from rotten wood!”

“Water from rotten wood! Isn’t worth the cuckoo. ”

“Worthless? Have you tried it? ”

“Not me, but Bob Tanner.”

“Who told you?”

“Who? Well, he told Willy Thatcher and Johnny Baker and Jim Hollis and Ben and Ben ‘n an old nigger and me. There, now you know! ”

“So what next? It’s just a lie! They all lie to each other, except for the nigger, I don’t know him. But I don’t know a nigger who doesn’t lie, do you? But now tell me how Bob Tanner did it with the warts, Huck! ”

“Well, he put his hand in an old tree stump that had rainwater in it.”

“During the day?”

“Naturally.”

“Facing the tree?”

“Certainly, at least I think so.”

“Did he say anything about that?”

[61]

“What do I know? – probably not!”

“Aha! There we have it! And then the guy wants to cure warts with rotten water and so does it! Of course it can’t do any good there. I want to tell you how to do it. First you go all alone in the middle of the forest, where you know an old tree stump with water and then, when it’s midnight, you stand with your back to the stump, dip your hand in the water and say:

The owl cries, the frog croaks, the moon shines on it,
Rotten water, magic water eat up the warts!
“Then you quickly step eleven paces forward with your eyes closed, turn three times, and go home without saying a word to anyone. Because if you do that, the spell is broken! ”

“Well, you can hear that, but Bob didn’t do it that way, I know for sure!”

“Yes, you are really right, because he is still the tartest boy in school and if he hadn’t been foolish with the lazy water, he didn’t need to have a single one anymore. I’ve got rid of a thousand warts like this, Huck. I attack so many frogs that I always have a few dozen warts on my hands. Sometimes I take a bean too. ”

“Yes, beans are good. I’ve tried that myself. ”

“Really? How do you do it? ”

“Well, I’ll take the bean and cut it in two, then cut the wart until it was bloody and drip the blood on one piece of the bean and bury it at midnight at the full moon on the Way of the Cross. The other piece is burned. Now the bloody piece pulls and pulls and wants to add the other one, and the blood pulls with it and pulls until the wart is gone. That’s how I do it. ”

[62]

“And that’s quite right, Huck, it only helps if you say while burying: ‘Away the bean, wart, don’t come back to the old place.” That’s excellent, I tell you. That’s what Joe Harper does and he’s been almost to Cronville and almost everywhere. But I don’t know about the dead cat. ”

“Well, that’s easy. You take the dead cat and go to the churchyard, around midnight, to the grave of some bad fellow. Then the devil comes on the stroke of twelve, maybe two or three, you just don’t see them and you only hear something like wind. And when they take the guy away with them, you throw the cat after them and shout:

If the Deubel wants to mistake it,
Does the cat have to go outside
Wart also flies behind it,
Get rid of all three then!
“That will drive away any wart before you are born.”

“Doesn’t sound bad. Have you tried it, Huck? ”

“Nah, but old mother Josephine told me.”

“Well, she must know, that’s supposed to be a witch.”

“Should be! Is it, Tom, is it, I know that for sure. She bewitched my old man, he always says that. As he passed her once, he just saw her bewitching him and then he took a stone and threw it at her; if she hadn’t bent down, she would no longer be a hex. Well, that same night my old man fell from a wall on which he was lying and sleeping because he was drunk and broke his arm. ”

“Phew, that’s horrible! How did he know she was bewitching him? ”

“What about? Oh, my age knows that very well. He says,[63] if they keep staring at you and humming something, then they bewitch you, especially when they are humming and mumbling something to themselves. Then they say the Lord’s Prayer backwards. ”

“Tell me, Huck, when are you going to try that with the cat?”

“Tonight. I think they’ll come for old Williams. ”

“He was buried on Saturday, Huck, why didn’t they get him that night?”

“Well, you also speak as you understand it! Saturday midnight is already Sunday and no devil has anything to do up here. He’ll be careful not to show up on Sunday. ”

“Of course I didn’t think of that. Indeed it is. Can I go with you? ”

“For my part, if you’re not afraid.”

“To fear? Well, too! Will you meow in front of our house when it’s time? ”

“Yes, if you don’t keep me waiting. The last time I had to meow so long that your old neighbor threw stones at me and cursed the cat, who left him no physical rest. As a thank you, I threw a brick through the window for him, he’ll think of the hangover! But don’t you betray me. ”

“Where am I! At that time I couldn’t come because my aunt was always on my heels. But today I come and when it rains fire and bad luck. – What’s that, Huck? ”

“Oh, just a stink bug.”

“Where from?”

“Out of the woods.”

“What do you want for that?”

[64]

“I – I don’t know, I won’t give it up at all.”

“Good. It’s just a shoddy little bug. ”

“Well, anyone who doesn’t have one can say that. It’s big enough for me, it’s good for me for a long time. ”

“Pah, is also something rare! I could have a thousand if I only wanted to. ”

“Why don’t you want to? You know why, dude! The stink bug here is rare, because it’s still early for stink bugs. At least it’s the first one I’ll see this year! ”

“Listen, Huck, I’ll give you my beautiful tooth for it.”

“Show me.”

Tom took out a piece of paper, which he carefully rolled up. Huck looked inside. The temptation was great. At last he asked:

“Is it real too?”

Without any further reassurance, Tom opened his mouth to reveal the gap.

“Well, well,” said Huck, “so it’s a deal, hit it!”

Tom carefully hid the bug in a small box, which has been used in jail for similar worms and was always ready in Tom’s pocket for any cases that might arise. Huck sagged and the two boys parted, each with the uplifting knowledge that they had made a very good trade.

When Tom reached the small, isolated schoolhouse, he hastily opened the door and hurried to his seat, as if he had just rushed straight from home at the greatest possible speed. He busily hung up his hat, threw the books on the table and himself on the bench, and made the appearance of throwing himself headlong into work. The teacher, who is high up behind the chair on a high-backed cane chair[65] enthroned, and who had nodded a little in the silence that made the eager hum of the learning children even more drowsy, awoke from the interruption:

“Thomas Sawyer!”

When Tom heard his name bang on his ear in unabridged beauty, he knew that it meant nothing good.

“Teacher!”

“Come here to me once. Why are you late again as usual? ”

Tom was just about to use a little white lie to help when he noticed two long, blonde tails dangling from a back that he recognized immediately with the electrical instinct of love. And next to that back was the only empty seat with the girls over there. So quickly he said:

“ I had to make an appointment with Huckleberry Finn! «

The teacher’s breath stood still; helplessly, uncertainly, he stared at the perky sinner. The humming of the learners stopped, the children couldn’t believe their ears because of this open language, they thought Tom must have gone mad. Finally, after a breathless pause, the teacher found words:

“What – what did you say?”

“Had to arrange something with Huckleberry Finn,” repeated Tom carelessly.

A misunderstanding was not possible here.

“Thomas Sawyer, only the rod can answer this extraordinarily astonishing confession. Jacket down! ”

And now the teacher’s rod danced on Tom’s back until the hand and arm were almost lame and the rod dissolved in pleasure. Then the command followed:

[66]

“Now you go and sit down with the girls as a punishment! And let that serve as a warning to you! March!”

The giggling that now ran through the room seemed to make the boy very embarrassed, but in truth it was only the consciousness that he had achieved what he was striving for, namely to be allowed to approach his deity. As steadfast as a martyr, he had endured the beatings which, as it were, formed the dark gate through which he was now to enter his paradise. Carefully he sat down at the very end of the bench. With a contemptuous throw back of her head, the girl moved as far away from him as possible. The poor sinner’s whispering, sticking heads, giggling, and meaningful stare went on for a while, but Tom didn’t seem to notice. He sat quietly with his arms over the table and was looking very carefully at his open book. Gradually he stopped to be the object of general attention and glee, and again the ordinary buzz of the school filled the summery still air. Now Tom began to throw furtive glances at his goddess. Noticing it, she wrinkled her nose, and turned her head away for a full minute. When she stealthily blinked at the person sitting next to her again, there was a peach in front of her. She pushed him away, Tom carefully put him back in front of her; again she pushed him away, but with less vehemence. Tom pushed him back patiently, then she left him there. Now Tom scribbled on his board: “Please, keep it – I have more.” She read the words, but made no sign of herself, neither approving nor denying. Now the boy began to draw something on his blackboard that he hid from her eyes with his left hand.[67] Tom continued to draw, apparently immersed in his work. The girl tried in an innocent way to get a look at the drawing, but the boy didn’t reveal that he had noticed. Finally she gave in and hesitantly whispered:

“You, let me see!”

Tom now revealed the sad caricature of a house with two crooked gables, from whose chimney a corkscrew-like cloud of smoke floated up. Now the girl’s whole interest was awake, and forgetting all about it, she eagerly followed the completion of the masterpiece. When it was done, she gazed at it for a moment and then whispered:

“Wonderful – now another man!”

The artist placed a man in the foreground, long as a mast tree; with one step he could have stepped over the house. The viewer, however, was not critical, she liked the monster and she whispered:

“The man is splendid – now make me how I come along!”

Tom painted a kind of figure eight with a circular full moon on top and four thin stripes for arms and legs. He covered the widely spread fingers with an enormous fan. The original of the painting felt flattered and said:

“No, how nice – if only I could draw!”

“It’s easy,” whispered Tom, “I’ll teach you!”

‘O do you want? When?”

“At noon. Are you going home to eat? ”

“If you stay, I’ll stay too.”

“Well, that’s a deal. What’s your name?”

“Becky Thatcher. And you? Oh, I know, Thomas Sawyer. ”

“That’s my name only when I’m scolded or beaten, otherwise my name is Tom. You call me Tom, you? ”

[68]

“Yes.”

Now Tom is scribbling something on the blackboard, holding up what has been written with his left hand. This time she wanted to see it right away. Tom said:

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Yes, yes.”

“No, it’s nothing, you don’t care if you see it.”

“Yes, no really, please, let me see.”

“You will pass it on.”

“No, no and three times no, certainly and truly not.”

“But won’t you tell anyone as long as you live?”

“Never in my life, nobody! But show me too. ”

“Oh, you don’t care!”

“Now, if you are like that, Tom, I have to see it -” and she put her little hand on his, whereupon a little fight ensued. Tom seemed to be seriously reluctant, but gradually withdrew his hand enough to reveal the words: ” I love you. I love you.” «

“Oh, you hideous one!” And she gave him a good clap on the hand, but blushed and did not seem indignant at all.

At the same moment the boy felt a fateful one[69] Grabbing his ear, with an irresistible upward urge, and before he knew how he was in his own place under the fire of huge salmon volleys from the whole school. Inexorably, like fate, the teacher stared down at him for a few more terrible moments, but then finally went solemnly back to his throne without saying a word. And although Tom’s ear burned, his heart triumphed.

When the storm at school subsided, Tom made a serious attempt to study, but the storm inside was too great. Now he was supposed to read, it was his turn, but he couldn’t get a sentence together for stammering and stuttering; then came the geography lesson. With Tom, lakes became mountains, mountains became rivers and rivers became islands, until chaos seemed to have broken over the world again. While writing dictations, in which he was otherwise one of the best, he stumbled over the simplest words, had fifty errors in a dictation of ten lines and had to bear the leaden medal of merit which he had so proudly wore for his first and only art to deliver without grace to a more worthy breast.