“The chef can show you the ropes before he retires,”continued the Emperor, trying to convince Benny to take up his offer. “And then you can take over. How about it? It’s one of the most prestigious jobs in the culinary world, you know. You’ll do it, won’t you?!”
“I am deeply splattered Your Highballness,” said Benny, “But I can only make soup!”
“Then we will have soup every day until you learn some new dishes!” said the Emperor.
“It’s a terribly kind breeze you’re fanning me with, your Highfiveness,” said Benny, ”but I’ll have to think about it. What would I do about the Soup Shack?”
“Ron can look after it!” said the Emperor.”I’m sure he would do well! A birdman of his fortitude would surely take it in his stride. Or if that’s not possible, I suppose I could find another cook.. or I could blow it up with dynamite if you like.”
What a dilemma! Benny thought nostalgic thoughts about the Soup Shack. He would miss the frozen view of the Chilly Peaks and the peace and quiet. And then there were his duties as a part-time mountain policebirdforce officer to consider. Who knows what anarchy would ensue if he was not on patrol? Could he really handle the pressure of being the chef in the Imperial Kitchen? What if, say, his plankton gravy didn’t thicken? How do you make plankton gravy anyway?
© David Severn 2012
© David Severn 2012
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