Squig wiped his face, adjusted his hat and snuck quietly back into the kitchen. With any luck at all Dweezil would have been so busy making an ass out of himself, he wouldn't have noticed his absence. But that was not the case.
"Just where have you been Sous Chef Sqigman," Dweezil demanded.
"Well Chef Dweezil, I was in the er hum, litter box. That's it. I was in the litter box. You know when nature calls, a cat's got to do, what a cat's got to do."
"Stay right where you are," Do not move a muscle until we have paw inspection." He commanded hopping off the counter.
"Paw inspection?" Squig questioned.
"Yes, paw inspection. You cannot come into a sanitary environment with bathroom bits clinging to your paws. Now stick them up where I can see them and we'll see if you can come any closer to the food." He grabbed one of Squig's paws and carefully inspected it. Then he did the same for the rest. Assuring himself that Squig's paws were clean enough, he hopped back on the counter and began again.
"Oh yes, where was I." he began drumming his paws on the counter. When cooking cicada, you want the product to be as fresh as possible, and that means they must be alive. However, " he said, nodding his head for emphasis, "we here at Chez Dweezil believe in being humane, so these cicadas have been in the refrigerator for just enough time to become comatose."
He extended a claw and continued. "Now we will pith the cicada, humanely killing it. Then we will rip off it's head and remove it's wings and lay it on this plate until we have finished the rest."
Squig's head was swimming, his stomach was growling. He had to get to those cicadas. He thought about it as he watched Dweezil add bug after bug to the growing pile. And then he had a plan. Smiling he wheedled in a snarky and totally fake tone of voice, "Oh Chef Dweezil can I assist you in your preparations? I've been watching everything you did and I know I can do it, if you just give me a chance. Isn't there another step you could be doing while I prepare the prey, I mean ingredient's.?"
Dweezil hesitated, he instinctively knew that Squig was up to something, but he did have more preparations and if Squig could finish off the remaining cicadas, they would be closer to completing the dish. So, against his better judgement, he said, "Come on up, but remember to be sanitary and humane."
"Oh, I'll be very humane, very humane," Squig whispered as he launched himself onto the counter and extending a claw, he speared the cicada. Dweezil watched in shocked horror as Squig popped the bug in his mouth and began to chew. He was eating the whole thing, bit by bit until only the red eyed head was sticking out of his mouth.
"Sous chef Squigman," he roared, "What do you think you're doing?
"Chew, chomp, chew, gulp, swallow" he responded, and taking one last bite, finished off the cicada. After wiping off his mouth with his paw, he smiled over at Dweezil and said, "Why Chef Dweezil, I'm enjoying a cicadacycle, Just the tasty treat a cat wants on a warm spring afternoon."
"Why you perverse little snake," DweezIl hissed as he knocked him off the counter. "I aught to come down there and smack you from now until tomorrow."
"Chef Dweezil, look. You've knocked off my hat. Oh my however will I appear in the role of the Sous Chef without it.?"
And with that, Dweezil leaped off the counter, and began smacking Squig around the room,.
TO BE CONTINUED