Post by The Prettiest Squish on Jul 25, 2017 13:17:09 GMT -5
"Coming through!"
"Make way."
Rolf and the rude prick escorted the cart from the kitchen to the corridor leading out into the dining hall just as they did when Jasper first met them. The whole place operated like clockwork, routine and timely to a tee, and admirable for an establishment even if it was run by knobheads. He was staring around, still watching the others independently working amongst themselves and trying to get a grip with what priority he was left in charge of.
To his left was Maria, shredding through vegetables and preparing the soups and stocks with no hint of humanity, every moment she made was done so precisely and so clean that it was almost mechanical. To his right side stood a young man, roughly three to five years younger than him, working the stove and managing half a dozen pans at the same time. It was night and day watching the lad work after his audience with Maria. Where she applied technique with flawless execution, he bumbled around like a feral raccoon on a sugar rush. Oils were splattering, smoke was rising, the lips of the pan were burning in fat. What a mess, Jasper thought to himself. However the loudest thing in the kitchen was coming from his erratic handling of the appliances yet no one stepped in to help. It didn't seem proper he be left alone to his devices otherwise they'd have to hold every single order he was working on back an additional few minutes.
Jasper slithered his way to him, taking care not to let the hot fluids anywhere near his tentacles lest he scald them forever. "What seems to be the problem?" He asked. The boy did not respond immediately, instead opting to toss and turn the various pans to lose some of the heat. Marbles of sweat decorated his face and his eyes were bloodshot like a raspberry syrup. "I-it's these pans, s-sir! Th-there are so many! I can't do this!" A pop of oil startled him for a moment before he returned to panicking at the workload in front of him. It was just too much, three was manageable perhaps even four but six? As well incoming orders to add to the mix? This was madness, he couldn't possibly keep up. Meanwhile a confused looking merman stood above him. "A-are you serious? This is too many for you? Erm." He looked down and did remember he had eight extra arms to work with. A sudden clang of cast iron gave him a jump. The boy was still going at it but wouldn't last another hour if this continued. Jasper sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder, "What's your name, chap?"
He stared back at him with those raspberry sclera, "O-oh. Um, My name's Floyd. I-I'm the saucier...." Sizzling from the pan furthest to the back brought back his attention but not before Jasper snatched his hand away from the handle. "You're exhausted Floyd, go and take a breather. I can handle this." Floyd paused for a moment, in disbelief at what he just heard. Was this really happening? But it was against protocol to abandon his station! Maria would have his head if he did not meet the standards of this great kitchen! Suddenly a voice came from behind him, that whispered calmly like still water, "Floyd. I reckon that you'll work better after a doze, wouldn't you agree?" Maria never took her eyes off her cutting board, she didn't have to when her voice commanded so much authority. By the virtue of that one opinion, Floyd nodded his head and walked on out of the kitchen to a small entryway in the corner. It led up to the staff quarters upstairs where he crashed into a bunk without a care in the world. Jasper smiled before he turned to face his sous chef.
"They won't listen to you. You haven't earned that right. Now then, great cook, show me how great your work is." At the end of her remark, Maria set down her knives and turned her body to meet his gaze. She had a smug grin on her face. The two stood off for what seemed like the tenth time but in reality their whole encounter was a singular showdown. The tension between them never vanished, it was only masked in between moments of silence, but it was still there just waiting to explode. The happenings of the kitchen still played in the background, dominating both their hearing and smell but never their sight, never obscuring their views of each other. Jasper wished to retort with some witty palaver when Rolf and his colleague rushed in with the cart, a pale look on their portraits.
"C-Chef Maria!! We have a problem!" "Oh dear, oh dear! What do we do?" The remaining chef, the one yet to interact with Jasper, slammed their heads together. Both men fell to the ground in a daze and were picked off the ground like trash bags into the air, "What. The F*ck. Is Wrong?" Maria followed close by, putting aside her brief rivalry with the merman for bigger matters. "Come on now, spill it you two." She tapped her foot incessantly waiting for their answer but they gulped nervously, their lips shut tight.
Rolf began to stutter something when his colleague pinched his lips and spoke for him, the young man sweating profusely from the news, "W-well you s-see. Chef M-M-Maria...The guests at T-Table 1 have said the food is...the food tastes...it reminds them of..."
"Out with it, you daft c*nt!!" Maria's face grew red with rage and all three of the chefs standing in front of her shuddered in fear and quivered in their shoes. Her fists quaked, the knuckles growing white the longer she held the grasp. Jasper could be heard stifling a chuckle to himself and it drew ever angrier, "Bennet, what the bloody f*ck have they said of my dishes?" Everyone's eyes were on the rude prick whose attitude humbled to no one until he was faced with the fury of a monstrous nightmare. He meekly squeaked out whatever words he could, "It's. Sh*t." The kitchen hummed to the silent sizzling of frying pans. And nothing else.
Jasper stood in the corner, hands over his mouth, eyes tearing up, and hunched over with glee. Oh this is deliciously dreadful! I'm going to suffocate! Hahaha!
"Make way."
Rolf and the rude prick escorted the cart from the kitchen to the corridor leading out into the dining hall just as they did when Jasper first met them. The whole place operated like clockwork, routine and timely to a tee, and admirable for an establishment even if it was run by knobheads. He was staring around, still watching the others independently working amongst themselves and trying to get a grip with what priority he was left in charge of.
To his left was Maria, shredding through vegetables and preparing the soups and stocks with no hint of humanity, every moment she made was done so precisely and so clean that it was almost mechanical. To his right side stood a young man, roughly three to five years younger than him, working the stove and managing half a dozen pans at the same time. It was night and day watching the lad work after his audience with Maria. Where she applied technique with flawless execution, he bumbled around like a feral raccoon on a sugar rush. Oils were splattering, smoke was rising, the lips of the pan were burning in fat. What a mess, Jasper thought to himself. However the loudest thing in the kitchen was coming from his erratic handling of the appliances yet no one stepped in to help. It didn't seem proper he be left alone to his devices otherwise they'd have to hold every single order he was working on back an additional few minutes.
Jasper slithered his way to him, taking care not to let the hot fluids anywhere near his tentacles lest he scald them forever. "What seems to be the problem?" He asked. The boy did not respond immediately, instead opting to toss and turn the various pans to lose some of the heat. Marbles of sweat decorated his face and his eyes were bloodshot like a raspberry syrup. "I-it's these pans, s-sir! Th-there are so many! I can't do this!" A pop of oil startled him for a moment before he returned to panicking at the workload in front of him. It was just too much, three was manageable perhaps even four but six? As well incoming orders to add to the mix? This was madness, he couldn't possibly keep up. Meanwhile a confused looking merman stood above him. "A-are you serious? This is too many for you? Erm." He looked down and did remember he had eight extra arms to work with. A sudden clang of cast iron gave him a jump. The boy was still going at it but wouldn't last another hour if this continued. Jasper sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder, "What's your name, chap?"
He stared back at him with those raspberry sclera, "O-oh. Um, My name's Floyd. I-I'm the saucier...." Sizzling from the pan furthest to the back brought back his attention but not before Jasper snatched his hand away from the handle. "You're exhausted Floyd, go and take a breather. I can handle this." Floyd paused for a moment, in disbelief at what he just heard. Was this really happening? But it was against protocol to abandon his station! Maria would have his head if he did not meet the standards of this great kitchen! Suddenly a voice came from behind him, that whispered calmly like still water, "Floyd. I reckon that you'll work better after a doze, wouldn't you agree?" Maria never took her eyes off her cutting board, she didn't have to when her voice commanded so much authority. By the virtue of that one opinion, Floyd nodded his head and walked on out of the kitchen to a small entryway in the corner. It led up to the staff quarters upstairs where he crashed into a bunk without a care in the world. Jasper smiled before he turned to face his sous chef.
"They won't listen to you. You haven't earned that right. Now then, great cook, show me how great your work is." At the end of her remark, Maria set down her knives and turned her body to meet his gaze. She had a smug grin on her face. The two stood off for what seemed like the tenth time but in reality their whole encounter was a singular showdown. The tension between them never vanished, it was only masked in between moments of silence, but it was still there just waiting to explode. The happenings of the kitchen still played in the background, dominating both their hearing and smell but never their sight, never obscuring their views of each other. Jasper wished to retort with some witty palaver when Rolf and his colleague rushed in with the cart, a pale look on their portraits.
"C-Chef Maria!! We have a problem!" "Oh dear, oh dear! What do we do?" The remaining chef, the one yet to interact with Jasper, slammed their heads together. Both men fell to the ground in a daze and were picked off the ground like trash bags into the air, "What. The F*ck. Is Wrong?" Maria followed close by, putting aside her brief rivalry with the merman for bigger matters. "Come on now, spill it you two." She tapped her foot incessantly waiting for their answer but they gulped nervously, their lips shut tight.
Rolf began to stutter something when his colleague pinched his lips and spoke for him, the young man sweating profusely from the news, "W-well you s-see. Chef M-M-Maria...The guests at T-Table 1 have said the food is...the food tastes...it reminds them of..."
"Out with it, you daft c*nt!!" Maria's face grew red with rage and all three of the chefs standing in front of her shuddered in fear and quivered in their shoes. Her fists quaked, the knuckles growing white the longer she held the grasp. Jasper could be heard stifling a chuckle to himself and it drew ever angrier, "Bennet, what the bloody f*ck have they said of my dishes?" Everyone's eyes were on the rude prick whose attitude humbled to no one until he was faced with the fury of a monstrous nightmare. He meekly squeaked out whatever words he could, "It's. Sh*t." The kitchen hummed to the silent sizzling of frying pans. And nothing else.
Jasper stood in the corner, hands over his mouth, eyes tearing up, and hunched over with glee. Oh this is deliciously dreadful! I'm going to suffocate! Hahaha!