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Photo courtesy of Michelle Weber.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/06/03/weekly-writing-challenge-1000-words-three/

Scenario: Two chefs in a darkened kitchen, hurrying to prepare a meal. The meal looks foreign, exotic, perhaps French, or fusion cuisine. Despite the calculated calm on their faces, they’re actually preparing a meal for Jesus. They know that in a very short space of time, all of the world’s greatest leaders will be sitting down to supper with Jesus, in an attempt to save the world from Armageddon.

Soon after, they hear the loud thuds of a stampede of people in the near distance. The auditorium they’re in is grotesque in size – in fact, the United Nations General Assembly is a dwarf in comparison. The location is secret; and all the chefs remember about that day, the day they were told they were cooking for Jesus was that they needed to do everything in their hearts possible to create the most sumptuous and delectable dish imaginable, as Jesus was coming to Earth for a very important meeting. They told him to cook like he’s cooking for all the world’s Head of State in one go; and to leave nothing to chance.

The chefs, in preparation for the special day, spent the weeks prior in preparation for the event by sourcing the best and most wholesome raw materials from all over the world. NO expense was spared. They hired the most professional colleagues of every culinary profession to work alongside them to create this amazing meal in an attempt to wow Jesus’ taste buds to ensure that whatever decision he made was somewhat less impending and doom-like as Armageddon was. They slept in shifts, and barely saw true sunlight in the days leading up to Supper because they were working so hard. Some of the chefs developed blisters on their feet and hands from having to be on their feet all day and repeatedly cut and slice and dice the food for Supper. Some were so tired that they fell asleep during their meal breaks; whilst others merely struggled on, counting the minutes until the Supper ended so they could go home and relax.

The stampeding sounds began to subside and the chefs could hear an eerie calm envelope the building. It was almost as if the mood changed, it got a little warmer, and the air shifted slightly. Other chefs in the kitchen began to finger their collars, trying to get the heat out of their suits, while others looked around haggardly trying to work out what this weird phenomenon was. The eerie silence bought with it a hint of uncertainty…”was Jesus here?” they wondered, or was this something else.

Breaking them out of their moment, in barged Eli, the stout New Yorker who walked like Danny DeVito and had a sharp tongue. “Quickly,” he rallied, “He’s here….get ready to plate up!” And with that, a fever pitch arose and emanated throughout the kitchen. Suddenly, the stampeding sounds of moments ago turned into the clang of knives and plates and people hollering at the top of their lungs. The chefs were hurriedly working on their plates like a production line, with some of them plating and others wiping and adding garnish. The eruption of activity in the kitchen was immediate, and felt as if the few weeks preparation in the lead up to Supper was at its boiling point. Waiters were doing last minute presses on their aprons and fixing their bows and ties. Chefs were finalizing everything from steaks and beef cheeks to croquembouche and Clafoutis and fresh Vanilla Bean ice-cream. Out in the auditorium, the last of the cutlery was being placed and plates were being straightened. A Maitre’D was checking the fog on the glasses and primping the flowers. Each table was decked in crisp white linen with silver cutlery, trimmed in gold and small rubies. The center-piece was an arrangement of Japanese and white lillies, arranged low and wide on mellow platters of clovers and something that looked oddly like plush cloud. The plush cloud was swirling with the most beautiful golden colors and what looked like small floating glitter as it traversed along the platter and around the flowers. The tables were two, rectangular, and ran opposite one another so that people could speak. The inner section of the tables were opened and not seated so that waiters could bring out food and platters. The room was decorated in white again, but with the subtlest hint of royal purple that seemed to only reflect in certain light.

And just as quickly as it started, the fever pitch stopped. All of the waiters stood in a perfect line, like a well oiled machine with their trolleys placed in front of them and their wide array of dishes placed neatly on its rows. Not one single hair was out of place, not one smudged eye liner, nothing. Eli came back through the double sided doors, his face red and flustered as he awaited the next command. This was it. The moment was finally here.

And then, with the brightest of lights and the blinding of the room, in walked Jesus, although, no-one could see anything as his presence was of a magnificence never seen in the world before. He wasn’t alone, and as the blinding light died down, the room started gasping as they saw who came with him. Not only was it a Supper with Jesus, but he came with all the major heads of all the religions in the world at his side. As he walked down the auditorium causeway toward the table, he was greeted by a specifically selected group of Elders from each of the worlds religions, who stood in awe of not only his magnitude, but the magnitude of what was happening before them.

“Come,” he said, “We need to talk…”

***Writers note: I find it interesting that I diverted to this topic because I am not an overly religious person at all. In fact, I find that as I wrote this the idea just came to me, so I ran with it. I actually enjoyed it, and I hope you all do too!***

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