A Coup of Soup.
Well, the Kitchens were mostly in shadow today with the looming of Execution Day tomorrow.
The Red Queen's Kitchens run on a system like the one moles create beneath the earth. While she presides amongst the public, we scurry to work in small, cramped tunnels and walkways to be seen only to exalt her glory and to mind-read as efficiently as possible.
There is a rule of behavior that's code between the bakers, chefs, servers and washers; we are quick, we are quiet, we are patient, we do not make mistakes, we are stupid, we are telepathic. And because it's very difficult to be all these things at once, the Axe Man stays pretty much regularly employed. (That's me, below, looking at you and reading your mind, the girl closer to you has already read it and that's probably why she's smirking.)
Earlier the Queen had been in a kindly mood she always seems to be when nearing Execution Day and she even told me I looked nice today and wasn't my hair just darling? Unfortunately that all seemed to change when the Head Chef made some very fatal errors in his omelets and I spilled some soup.
Oh poor dear Chef, oh poor dear all of us.
Chef really is one of the kindest men I've ever known. known as V, he's petit, quick, olive, and brilliant, has walked me carefully through the dangers of this business of handling the Queen's temperament like a Faberge and always has a smile for us no matter the circumstance.
But honestly, today I think Chef is in the beginnings of starting a coup.
While I was wrapping up doughnuts he asked why I had not opened up my own shop. When I replied that I had been trying to for years now, he asked if it because I lacked courage? No, of course not. Was I afraid? I thought that was the same as the last question but I said no, it was because I didn't have the capital. He was very thoughtful, stroked his chin, and nodded briskly. We will talk Saturday about this some more, he said before he hurried away to grab bags of frozen potatoes.
I just wonder what he's thinking.
The Red Queen's Kitchens run on a system like the one moles create beneath the earth. While she presides amongst the public, we scurry to work in small, cramped tunnels and walkways to be seen only to exalt her glory and to mind-read as efficiently as possible.
There is a rule of behavior that's code between the bakers, chefs, servers and washers; we are quick, we are quiet, we are patient, we do not make mistakes, we are stupid, we are telepathic. And because it's very difficult to be all these things at once, the Axe Man stays pretty much regularly employed. (That's me, below, looking at you and reading your mind, the girl closer to you has already read it and that's probably why she's smirking.)
Earlier the Queen had been in a kindly mood she always seems to be when nearing Execution Day and she even told me I looked nice today and wasn't my hair just darling? Unfortunately that all seemed to change when the Head Chef made some very fatal errors in his omelets and I spilled some soup.
Oh poor dear Chef, oh poor dear all of us.
Chef really is one of the kindest men I've ever known. known as V, he's petit, quick, olive, and brilliant, has walked me carefully through the dangers of this business of handling the Queen's temperament like a Faberge and always has a smile for us no matter the circumstance.
But honestly, today I think Chef is in the beginnings of starting a coup.
While I was wrapping up doughnuts he asked why I had not opened up my own shop. When I replied that I had been trying to for years now, he asked if it because I lacked courage? No, of course not. Was I afraid? I thought that was the same as the last question but I said no, it was because I didn't have the capital. He was very thoughtful, stroked his chin, and nodded briskly. We will talk Saturday about this some more, he said before he hurried away to grab bags of frozen potatoes.
I just wonder what he's thinking.
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