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SOUL FOOD

A short story By Jim Rossignol
Published on opi8.com

"...The German stood up, levering himself on meaty rods, slipping for a moment on more of the hated gruel. Then he was leaning into movement and recapturing his initial motion, he accelerated towards the kitchen door, intending to ram it with explosive effect.

Behind him the waiter squirmed on the floor, gasping desperately as he struggled to re-inflate his chest. The air had been blasted out of him and he feared that it would never return. The chef was a tattooed French-Swiss. He turned with an eyebrow-centered sneer to view the furor. As he did so two massive limbs came for him, hair and foul smelling breath accompanied them. Hand at is face.

The Chef scrambled backwards across a great central table, scattering cabbage and salt. A junior cook threw himself at Von Subertan, striking him with a blood-encrusted rolling pin. The German struck back, stunning the young man with a gigantic backhand swipe at his head. The young cook's nose crunched and he gargled internal fluids as he fell back. ..." read full text here