Too Many Cooks in the Kitchen

This is a work of fiction. No real people, places or events were used. Copyright ã 2011 Plot Roach.

Too Many Cooks in the Kitchen

By Plot Roach

The kitchen was sweltering in the End of the World Café and Bar. Jacob, the owner of the establishment had a hard time keeping a decent cook willing to deal with the heat and work for the wages he provided. As he walked across the ceramic tiles of the room, he felt as though he was taking a stroll in the oven itself. The tiles were cracked and pitted from the heat, Jacob swore that his feet almost stuck to them in a spot or two. His head began to pound and his mouth felt dry. Most humans could not spend more than twenty minutes in the kitchen without adverse side effects like dehydration -or death.

It did not matter how many air conditioners or heat displacers he added to the room, with the ovens at full blast, it was as if the heat of Hell crept through the kitchen. He had tried various robot, android and cyborg staff to work the kitchen, only to have them fail when the heat became too much for them. Ogres were good for an hour at least, before the heat sent them sprawling into the main dining area to drown their burns in ale. And then he could never get them to go back in and finish their shift. Trolls never could make it past the door of the kitchen, the heat sapping the water from their bodies even faster than it did those of their human counterparts.

Jacob was beside himself with worry, he had inherited the bar from his dead uncle. And it had been the butt of too many family jokes for him to give up on it now. His uncle had managed to keep the business in top shape for at least thirty years before a curse had been placed upon the kitchen by a mage who was insulted by one of the waiting staff. No amount of free food or drink could persuade the mage to lift his curse and the bar was abandoned less than a month later. The mage was long since dead, though the ovens never gave up their heat in all the time the doors to the bar were closed.

There has to be a way, Jacob thought, as he exited the hellish kitchen and sat in his office. Even with three feet of glacier stone to insulate it from the kitchen, his office still registered ninety degrees. He had long since given up on keeping a computer in this room, as it had gone the way of the robotic staff from the heat. He looked through his mail, already crackling and curling in upon itself from the heat. He spied the ads of the other eating establishments in the immediate area, feeling like a fool because his own place was open sporadically due to the curse of the kitchen.

Then his eyes fell upon an ad for open call for pit fighters. Warriors from all over the thirty worlds that composed the system of the United Cerulean Kingdom would come to the audition to try out against their peers. The best of which would have a permanent spot as a fighter in the Grand Ring Fights. That’s what I’ll do, he thought, I’ll hold an open audition for cook.

A week later, the ad had been placed in the local media. Jacob had several contenders and decided that the best way for them to be judged for the bar was to have the audience decide who they liked the best. It seemed only fair, since they would be the ones to eat the feast provided by the kitchen that day.

At sunset, with the bar packed with patrons, the first cook entered the kitchen. He was a Hellish brute himself, a type of rock like minotaur who hailed from a planet where volcanoes sprouted like tress on old Earth. As his hooves rang out against the tiles of the floor, Jacob’s heart lifted with hope. But this was short-lived, as the creature produced a small cookie like food that tasted like ash and broke the teeth of the customers who sampled it.

The next contender, a spider like being, conveyed herself across the kitchen on her own webbing, never touching the floor. But as the anchor webs melted from their places against the kitchen walls, she accidentally dropped into the stew she had been cooking and was consumed in the heat. It’s a shame, Jacob thought, the stew had been wonderful, even if she had been the main ingredient.

They went through five more cooks before Jacob lost hope and the customers went home for the evening. He was closing up the bar when someone walked through the swinging doors. “It’s over” Jacob called out.

“I wouldn’t say that.” came a gravely voice.

Jacob looked up into the eyes of a small dragon, he could feel the heat of the creature coming off of it in waves, like he did the kitchen. Could it be? He shook his head. He had hoped for too many things today, why should this one be the winner? “The competition is over.”

“Did someone win?”

“Yeah, the kitchen.” Jacob sighed. “I think I’ll just close the doors for good and sell the bar for the land beneath it.”

“You’d be selling yourself short, if you did.” said the dragon. “Why not give me a shot at it?”

“I’m tired of cleaning up the mess.” Jacob said. “Both of ruined food and the bodies of those who failed.”

“Well… let me see what I can do, okay?” asked the dragon. But it did not wait for his consent, as it plunged into the kitchen.

Jacob stood next to the door, peeking in through the only window that had not warped from the heat. A low rumbling came form the room and Jacob soon realized that it was the dragon, it was humming. I didn’t know that dragons hummed, he thought absently as he watched the figure within the kitchen set the place to rights once again. It swept the floor, washed the dishes that could withstand the heat, dumping those that had become warped overt ime and no longer usable. Then it took the burned ingredients and partially cooked recipes of the former cooks and added them to a big cauldron. The dragon hovered back and forth in the hellish room, adding a bit of this and a pinch of that. At last the concoction was complete, but instead of serving it up on a plate, the dragon tipped the cauldron over and sent the mess plopping to the floor.

What’s one more mess for me to cleanup later? Jacob thought. But then stood back, surprised at what transpired immediately after. The lump began to move. Furthermore, it pulled itself into a bipedal shape and took the cauldron from the dragon, washing it in the kitchen sink. If I hire the dragon, it comes with its own staff, he thought. He did a mental calculation and thought of how much money he could save on insurance alone. He smiled through the window at his cook, but the show was not over yet.

The dragon zipped back and forth through the room, its glob like attendant cleaning up any mess it created in its wake. Before long, the dragon had created a seven course meal worthy of royalty, setting it before Jacob in the main dining hall. He sampled the dishes and was pleasantly surprised at what it had created in such a short time and with what little goods had been left for it to work with.

“Well?" it asked.

“You are defiantly hired.” Jacob said, his stomach finally full with a meal made from his own kitchen, rather than one he had to buy from one of the local restaurants. “But how did you come by these talents?”

“I worked for your uncle once, back when the place was still open -and curse free.”

“Wow. Were you there when it happened?”

“I, uh, unfortunately was the reason it happened.” If a dragon could blush, it did so now. “The mage was a lousy tipper and sent EVERYTHING back to the kitchen, whether it was to his liking or not. He punished your uncle with the kitchen, he cursed me with ‘this'’” the dragon said, pointing to its own body. “When I heard that you were opening the old place back up, I thought that I would reapply, seeing as I was partially to blame for the whole mess to begin with.”

“When can you start?”

“I believe I already have.”