“Don’t drip into the sauce, Alejandro.” Marina dabbed a towel over her face and sighed.
In Pastry, Rick’s face shone like a deformed beet on steroids, ready to split and explode. He cleared his throat and hopped from side to side. “Stop dancing, Rick,” she snapped. “Or have you something to tell us?”
The pastry chef glared at her and set down the water bottle. “I need to take a walk.” Guffaws and laughter sent him sprinting.
“Don’t forget to wash your ha-ands,” a girly voice offered.
“Back to work, gang.”
Microsoft Clipart
“When is the air-conditioning repair coming?” The busboy slinked into the kitchen. “You think this is hot, try the restaurant. Customers’ brains must be parboiled— they’re skipping dessert.” He smirked at Rick’s return.
“And ours are barbecued. Two more hours troops. Chop, chop,” Marina scolded benignly.Rick tossed his hat.
“Don’t you dare…”
“Kiss my a**.”
“Sure thing, sugar.”
~ * ~
The word limit for Parboiled is 150 words. I used all 150. Check out http://mommasmoneymatters.com/flash-fiction/ for the rules and join us.
How the Cookie Crumbles 
May 14, 2013 at 9:06 pm
Good one, Tess.
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May 15, 2013 at 1:42 am
A brilliantly painted scene Tess!
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May 15, 2013 at 4:59 am
I like this scene, Tess… I could actually feel the heat and busyness as I read!
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May 15, 2013 at 12:32 pm
I’m with Tom on this one.
Good read Tess 😉
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May 15, 2013 at 7:43 pm
Great scene drawing Tess, 150 words well used.
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May 17, 2013 at 8:20 pm
perfectly sums up life in a restaurant kitchen, I reckon (mind you I’ve never been in one)
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May 24, 2013 at 8:53 pm
Yep, it’s hot sometimes although I don’t recall anything like this when I worked in the kitchen in one when I was a kid.
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June 8, 2013 at 10:12 pm
Wonderful. I want to open a window and turn on a fan for them.
xxx
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June 10, 2013 at 6:49 pm
Thanks, Red. Me too.
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