If you don’t get caught up you’re stupid but hey, I don’t run your life, your WALLET does.
After stepping through the fridge and into the walk-in freezer on the other side of the portal you take a look back and the fridge has disappeared. In its place is a regular wall with a dartboard that someone stuck a picture of Bobby Flay to.
You immediately encounter Chef Morris, the man whom you saw through the portal. He doesn’t seem to notice you until you clear your throat, which you didn’t actually need to do because unobstructed throats run in your family along with really fragrant ears.
“Do we have any rabbits?” he asks.
“I’m not sure, I’m new here,” you reply.
Seems like you’re getting comfortable on this adventure! You smile to yourself when reflecting how up until this point your journey has combined elements of your favourite movie, Stay Tuned, and your least favourite TV show, Quantum Leap, with a dash of Sliders, which you never got into because the neighbour boy who owned a skateboard that said “BUTT DOG” on it, once called it “gay”.
“Go to table four and tell them that we’d be happy to cook them some lard as we are out of rabbit, then go out back and make sure no rats are licking the ice,” Morris demands.
You exit the walk-in freezer and enter the kitchen. Line cooks are busy cooking up what smells like bacon and eggs but the dominant scent is definitely nutmeg. Puzzled but not undeterred, you make your way to the dining room.
It’s a small yet cozy restaurant whose patrons appear to be a mix of the elderly and the East Asian. You’ve never been good at telling apart East Asian ethnicities which you attribute to a lack of research and a racist babysitter you once had who ended up shaping your life more than you would’ve hoped. She’s also the reason you’ve never tried a Filet O’Fish. Anyway, you gotta find table four.
Unfortunately the tables aren’t labelled, but you smile when you realize that “table” and “label” rhyme and that you’ll definitely keep that in mind in case you rap battle another mom next Easter.
You’re about to give up and go outside to the futuristic looking city you see out of the restaurant’s window, but something else catches your attention. One of the old men is wearing a hat that looks like this:
You can’t think of any sports teams or vacation resorts called “December 3” and decide this must be your ticket outta here. You approach the table with your hands on your knees, just as your high school home economics teacher taught during the restaurant unit before the school found out he was actually an Australian comedian shooting a prank show.
“Pardon me, the chef is sorry to inform you that we are out of rabbit but can offer you all a nice stewed lard,” you tell the table utilizing your best lisp, also taught to you by Mr. O’Snaz during waiter lessons.
“That will be fine but we’re not paying for lard,” the man in the head responds.
Since you have no clue what the restaurant’s policy on free food is and because you’d really like to get on with this adventure, you snatch the man’s hat off his head and run back into the kitchen. You don’t have much time before the old man and his companions find you so you look into the hat expecting to gaze into some fantastical world. Instead, all you see is some loose hair, probably left behind by the balding head of its previous owner, who you can hear approaching, fast. It sounds like this:
You put the hat on but instead of it stopping on your head, it envelops your whole body and you disappear. The man enters the kitchen in a huff and is quickly showered in oil and lemon juice as per restaurant code and its hard stance on unwanted kitchen visitors. Where to next? Tune in tomorrow to find out!