Pure and utter dog poop.
Asked for an "Anaheim Scramble" with some orange juice. The cashier told me they didn't have juice. I asked if they were out. She replied no, and that she even thought it was weird they didn't carry any juice being a breakfast place.
My scramble comes out and the waitress who brings it to me looks at it oddly before serving it to me. I ask her why she looked at it that way. she said no reason. I insisted there would be some reason to eye my eggs like that. She showed me the eggs were under cooked and runny and returned it to the kitchen.
What she brought back was some sort of Frankenstein's monster of a scramble with stale toast. See picture for further reference.