Dweezil went into the kitchen in a high state of anticipation. He hopped on the counter and inspected everything carefully. All was as it should be, the necessary spices and liquids were in their respective bowls and in the big ceramic blue bowl he was pleased to notice that the main ingredient had been chilled until comatose.
Hopping off the counter, he next went over to the oven and leaping on it saw that the large cast iron pan had just the right amount of oil in it. Everything, was in every way, just perfect.
He sighed, a pleasurable sigh and jumping down from the top of the oven, opened the lowest drawer and there, as expected, were a small chef's apron and two cat sized chef's hats. He pulled out the apron and put it on, noticing with a great deal of satisfaction that the words, "Chez Dweezil," were emblazoned on the front. He then fluffed out his chef's hat and put it on.
"Everything's ready and it's going to be just perfect," he thought to himself, almost purring with delight.
"What have you done," Squig demanded as he came into the kitchen. "You had to have help. You couldn't have done this by yourself. What are you doing, and why are you wearing that get up?
"Put on the hat," Dweezil commanded, pointing to the other cat sized chef's hat.
"I will not." Squig said, narrowing his eyes and sitting down.
"Put on the hat," he repeated calmly. "In this episode, you are appearing in the role of the sous chef and sous chef's where hats. Therefore, so are you."
"No," Squig replied, nastily,"In this episode, I am appearing in the role of the cat and cats do not wear hats."
"Let me be quite clear about this," Dweezil explained, "In this episode you are appearing in the role of the sous chef and you are going to wear that hat."
"No, in this episode, I am appearing in the role of the hatless cat, and you obviously are appearing in the role of the nut. The ahh, umm, iii,"
"What?" Dweezil asked sweetly, "Having trouble coming up with type of nut. Let me help." Extending a claw and patting it against his cheek, he continued, "Am I a wing nut? No, what about a macadamia nut, or how about a cashew? Then there's always, almonds or peanuts, and I do believe that acorns are considered nuts. Am I appearing in the role of the acorn?"
"No," Squig screamed. "You are appearing in the role of the nut who thinks he's Brad Pitt or President Obama."
"That may be." Dweezil answered calmly walking over to Squig, "But you are appearing in the role of sous chef and you are going to wear this hat." And with that, he crammed the hat on the top of Squig's head.
Walking away, he looked over his shoulder and said, "Oh by the way, since I am the chef and you are the sous chef, you will address me as Chef, or Chef Dweezil. Got it.?"
"Whatever, " Squig grumbled.
"What did you say, Sous Chef Squigman," Dweezil asked narrowing his eyes and flicking his tail.
"Yes sir, Chef Dweezil," Squig replied in a very flat tone of voice.
TO BE CONTINUED