Flash Fiction |
Chef's Special (300w) For the fifth season of his hit TV show, celebrity chef Gordon Fisher was going to save Good Cookin’ - a failing restaurant – from going bust. He arrived the evening before the first day of shooting to try the food. A gaunt waiter sat Gordon at a table opposite the kitchen. “I’m Leonard,” he said. “I’ll be your waiter this evening.” “Fine,” said Gordon. “Tuck in your shirt, Leonard. Not a good start.” The dining room, lit by candlelight, was silent besides the whirring of a solitary ceiling fan; the décor was dreadful. “Won’t be a minute,” said Leonard, disappearing through the saloon doors. He returned with a bowl of what looked like beef chilli. “Today’s chef’s special, sir.” “Yum,” said Gordon, unfolding a napkin onto his lap, bracing himself for another nightmarish meal. “Oh,” he said, after a bite, “that’s… different.” “Yes,” said Leonard. The hearty texture, the full-bodied flavour, the delicate aftertaste – it was the best beef chilli Gordon had ever tasted. “Take me to the cook.” “If you’ll follow me, sir.” said Leonard, leading Gordon through the saloon doors, into the kitchen, to a storeroom out back. “Please, go in.” “Exquisite,” said Gordon, entering the room. “Can I have the recipe? And tomorrow’s chef’s special?” Nobody answered: the room was empty; then, the door slammed and the lights went out. The only light remaining came from a chest freezer, its lid ajar, at the back of the room. “Is this a joke?” said Gordon. “Let me out.” Silence. “LEONARD!” Silence. In search of light, Gordon hurried to the chest freezer, and discovered something horrific: a severed hand, fingers curled and twisted and blue, propping up the lid. *** Meanwhile, Leonard was in the kitchen, humming to himself, updating the chef’s special for the following day: Fish Pie. |