text: Monsieur LeBlanc, the most famous food critic in all of France, had a dirty secret. It was a guilty and greasy pleasure that he could never resist. Despite the fact that he had spent years cultivating his sophisticated tastes, Monsieur LeBlanc loved the simple and unrefined meal of fried chicken. And after this especially difficult week, when his eyes fell upon it as a special on the menu, he surrendered to its crispy temptation. Of course, Monsieur LeBlanc knew that if such a secret was discovered, it could irreparably tarnish his career. But in the divine theater of life, filled with mystery, impending tragedy, and relentless joy, of what consequence could a single portion of fried chicken be? Monsieur LeBlanc had no way of knowing that this simple meal would soon become the catalyst for a series of events that would forever alter his very existence. Monsieur LeBlanc felt a pang of embarrassment when he ordered the dish with his young waiter. But when the plate of golden-fried chicken arrived and the fragrant aroma of its juicy flesh wafted up to his nose, Monsieur LeBlanc was absolutely intoxicated. His mouth began to water uncontrollably as he picked up his fork and knife, ready to savor the first bite. But just as Monsieur LeBlanc was about to take a mouthful, his eyes darted to the other side of the restaurant, and his heart sank. There, sitting at a nearby table, was his arch-nemesis, the renowned Italian food critic Mario De La Fantissimo. If De La Fantissimo caught him indulging in such a humble dish, his days as the most famous food critic in France would be over. With a heavy heart, Monsieur LeBlanc set down his fork and knife, quietly pushed the plate of fried chicken away, and tried to act nonchalantly. He knew that he had to avoid detection if his reputation was to be preserved. The waiter noticed that Monsieur LeBlanc was not eating his food, and with concern etched on his face, he approached the table. "Excusez-moi, monsieur," he said in a soft voice, "Is everything alright with your meal?" Monsieur LeBlanc, trying to remain calm and composed, assured the waiter that everything was fine. He didn't want to cause a scene. “Non, non, tout va bien.” He said softly, “I am just not hungry.” But as Monsieur LeBlanc tried to dismiss the waiter, he noticed that the young man was becoming increasingly distraught. His eyes welled up with tears, and his voice began to shake. "Please, monsieur," the waiter said, "if there is anything wrong with the food, I must know. I cannot bear the thought of you leaving here dissatisfied." Monsieur LeBlanc realized that the waiter knew who he was. His reputation as a food critic preceded him, even in this modest restaurant. Monsieur LeBlanc tried to reassure the young man, telling him that the food was delicious and that there was nothing wrong with it. But the waiter's anxiety continued to grow, and he began to cry loudly, causing other diners to turn and stare. Monsieur LeBlanc felt his face flush with embarrassment. Suddenly, the waiter stopped crying and looked up at Monsieur LeBlanc with a wild look in his eye. "Oh, woe is me!" he exclaimed, his baritone voice rising in a dramatic crescendo. "What is the meaning of life? Is it all for naught? Do we live, and love, and suffer, only to be cast aside by the fickle winds of fate?" Monsieur LeBlanc could hardly believe his ears. The waiter had transformed from a concerned young man into a Shakespearean actor, delivering an impassioned soliloquy on the meaninglessness of existence. "Is this all there is?" the waiter continued, his arms outstretched. "A few brief moments of pleasure, followed by a lifetime of toil and sorrow? Is this the grand design of the universe, or merely a cruel joke played by a capricious god?" Monsieur LeBlanc was at a loss for words. He had never encountered such an outburst before, especially not in a restaurant. He wondered if the waiter was perhaps suffering from a mental breakdown or some other ailment. As the waiter continued his speech, other diners began to murmur and whisper. Monsieur LeBlanc's heart stopped as he noticed Mario De La Fantissimo staring at him with a mocking smile. De La Fantissimo had been out to get him for years and now fate had provided him with the perfect opportunity. A bead of sweat rolled down Monsieur LeBlanc’s forehead. He was desperately thinking of a way to salvage the situation. The waiter collapsed onto the floor, now sobbing again and wailing about the meaning of life. The other diners gasped in shock. Mario De La Fantissimo looked at Monsieur LeBlanc with a mixture of cruelty and disgust before taking out his pen and notepad and starting to write a review. “Je dois agir,” Monsieur LeBlanc said as he leaped onto the stage next to his table which was sometimes used for performances to entertain the diners. Suddenly there is silence and everyone is staring at LeBlanc. "Mes amis,” LeBlanc says in a clear and commanding voice, “despite all the struggles and hardships that we may face, the human spirit remains unrelenting, unyielding in the face of adversité. We are a people of résilience, of fortitude, of hope. And it is this unwavering spirit that imbues all of existence with such beauté and wonder." The diners start to look at each other and slowly nod in agreement, caught up in Monsieur LeBlanc's impassioned words. The aroma of fried chicken fills the air, mingling with the scent of wine and spices. Somehow a dramatic and hopeful cello begins to play as if from nowhere. For a moment, all is right with the world. "As we sit here today, enjoying this simple yet délicieus meal, let us remember to savor each and every moment of this precious life. Let us celebrate the joy of existence in all its forms, from the grandest feats to the humblest of pleasures. For in the end, it is these moments that make life truly worth living." As his speech finishes, he notices that the diners have tears in their eyes. They begin applauding and cheering and throwing flowers onto the stage at Monsieur LeBlanc’s feet. He glances at Mario De La Fantissimo and sees his face has twisted into an expression of jealousy and hatred. As LeBlanc takes his bow the curtain at the back of the stage rises revealing a full orchestra dressed in tuxedos gathered behind him. They begin playing a triumphant melody and the clapping and cheering gets louder. But as Monsieur LeBlanc rises from his bow, he is surprised at the sight of Mario De La Fantissimo approaching him. De La Fantissimo has a formidable appearance: tall and burly, wearing a top hat and a long, black greatcoat. The audience and the musicians become silent as he takes the stage right next to Monsieur LeBlanc. “The problema with this world," Mario declares, rolling his r’s "is that people have a become complacent. They are contenuto with da mundane, da mediocre. They settle for da second best, when they should be striving for da perfezione in all-a-things. This is why we needa da harsh critiques, to remind people that there is always da room for improvement.” He flashes a toothy grin at the crowd, some of whom are nodding in agreement with him. “Mediocrity” De La Fantissimo says, gesturing toward LeBlanc, “shoulda never be accepted!" Monsieur LeBlanc recoils as if he has been struck. He and Mario De La Fantissimo lock eyes. They both are aware that things have progressed well past the point where this can end peaceably. The Shakespearean waiter must have understood this as well because he approached the stage with a silver tray. On the tray are two steak knives. Monsieur LeBlanc and Mario De La Fantissimo take the knives and face off. The orchestra begins to play a haunting melody. The mournful notes of the strings underscore the gravity of the situation, the brass section adding an air of tension and drama. Monsieur LeBlanc and Mario De La Fantissimo begin their deadly dance, their movements perfectly timed to the ebb and flow of the music. De La Fantissimo lunges forward with his knife, but Monsieur LeBlanc is quick to parry the attack. The diners watch in stunned silence as the fight rages on, the music swelling and ebbing in time with the battle. It is as if the orchestra is telling a story with its music, a tale of passion, betrayal, and ultimate tragedy. The blades flash in the dim light of the restaurant. Each of them tried to gain the upper hand, but they were evenly matched in their skills. The battle continued for what seemed like hours, each combatant pushing themselves to the limit. Sweat poured down their faces as they slashed and parried. The only sound in the room was the clashing of their knives and their heavy breathing. That, and the full orchestra. After an eternity, Monsieur LeBlanc saw an opening. With a swift movement, he disarms Mario whose knife flew high into the air and stuck in the ceiling with a twang. Mario De La Fantissimo is at his mercy. But instead of delivering the final blow, Monsieur LeBlanc looked down at his defeated opponent with pity. "You may have lost this battle, De La Fantissimo, but there is more to life than just critique. Food is meant to be enjoyed, not analyzed to the death," Monsieur LeBlanc said, before turning to walk away. But as he did, Mario pulled a butter knife from his boot and lunged forward, aiming for Monsieur LeBlanc's back. With lightning-fast reflexes, Monsieur LeBlanc turned and caught Mario's arm in mid-air. The two men locked eyes once more, each of them knowing that this was the final moment. With a swift motion, Monsieur LeBlanc thrusts his knife with all his might. The blade pierces through De La Fantissimo’s defenses, sinking deep into his chest. Mario’s eyes widen in shock as he staggers backward, grasping at the hilt of the knife. Monsieur LeBlanc steps forward and with a final shove, he sends Mario flying off the stage, crashing onto the table where he had been eating his fried chicken only minutes before. The table shatters under the weight of Mario's body, sending the chicken flying into the air in a burst of crumbs and grease. The once-lively orchestra comes to a sudden halt, and the entire restaurant falls silent. All eyes are on the chicken. It seems to freeze at the apex of its flight. Then it descends, almost as if in slow motion until it lands with a soft thud on Mario's chest. In Mario De La Fantissimo’s final moment, he looks at the fried chicken on his chest, then back at Monsieur DeBlanc, his eyes glimmering as he gives one last mocking smile. Then the life disappears from his eyes, but the smile remains. Monsieur LeBlanc feels a deep sense of shame. How could he have been so careless, so thoughtless as to order something as unrefined as fried chicken? The weight of his mistake bears down on him as the rest of the restaurant looks on in astonishment. For a long moment, nobody moves or speaks. The only sound is the chicken slowly sliding off of Mario De La Fantissimo’s lifeless body and plopping to the floor. Monsieur LeBlanc wished he had been brave enough to enjoy the food he loved without shame. He drops his knife and walks off the stage. He picks up the fallen chicken and places it on a plate, setting it on the remains of the table next to Mario's body. Inside of him, something finally clicks. He then turns to the crowd, raising his hands in the air. The orchestra takes the cue and begins playing something soft and inspiring as LeBlanc addresses the crowd for the final time. "This meal, this simple fried chicken, has taught me something today. It has taught me that we should never be ashamed of enjoying the simple pleasures in life. That we should always be true to ourselves and our own tastes, and not let the opinions of others dictate our choices." The crowd listens intently, nodding in agreement. They have been moved by Monsieur LeBlanc's words, and they feel a sense of connection with him that they had not felt before. Monsieur LeBlanc smiles at the crowd, feeling a sense of liberation wash over him. He has let go of his fear of judgment and has embraced the simple joys of life. He takes a bite of the fried chicken, savoring the flavors and textures that had once embarrassed him. The crowd erupts into cheers. The waiter who was crying before lifts his gaze to the heavens and a dove inexplicably lands on his shoulder. Monsieur LeBlanc finishes his meal, and he realizes that he has won a different kind of battle, one that is fought within oneself. Days later, the news of the incident spread across France and the world. Monsieur LeBlanc is now known not just for his exquisite taste in food, but also for his deadly skills in combat, cementing his legacy as the greatest food critic of all time. But most importantly, he is no longer ashamed to enjoy the simple and unrefined meal of fried chicken.