Can I Win Mr.Anti-Woman? #JustWriteIt

Chapter 16: Foie Gras or Foul Gras?

Chapter 16
Foie Gras or Foul Gras?

Green leafy leaves, sliced baby tomatoes and chopped red, yellow and green peppers were set aside by a single silver knife.

It seemed like Brandon was doing this on purpose- the speed on how he sliced the dish, it was all in slow motion; and so did the sound of thrilling violins and cellos whenever I see the knife slowly approach the dish. You know, like the one in the movie "Jaws".

But I know imagination is taking the hold of me. In the real world, your eyes can't zoom in like how they do it in the movies. No, we don't have extenders like the ones on camera lenses. Neither do we have a band of orchestra living inside our ears. But, ill have to make an exception because it seems like everything is going slowly, it's tedious and horrifying. Yes, I'm clearly over-thinking.

My eyes flutter open only to see the gleaming look of Foie Gras against the sunlight. The pursed frown I once had, slowly opened askew as I stared at it in pure horror. The burnt coloured blob that seemed to pop on top of the plate was drizzled with a light layer of sorrel coloured sauce, which looked like caramel. But I can't get the thought that it looked like poop.

Maybe Foie Gras tasted like gravy, just slightly solid and uhmm... A stool look-a-like. Maybe it's a blessing in disguise. Maybe it's tangy like katsudon. Mayb--

*tsuk*

The sound of silverware against the plate reached my ears thus popping my imagination bubble. I looked at the dish.

Oh my... It looks bad on the outside and.. Worst on the inside.

"What the heck is that?" I stared at it in horror.

"Foie Gras." He said as if I was stupid.

"No, moron. That thing! The center's oozing out like purge!" My voice came out shaky from all the twists and turns my stomach is experiencing at the moment. I even made a retching sound, getting the attention of our nearby neighbors who looked like they were annoyed with the disturbance. I
just waved the businessman off like he was nothing, and showed him the plate of oozing foie gras. He seemed to widen his eyes and returned to his own business with a look of disgust.

I'm not the only one to make a comment.

"Oh, it's medium rare. I requested that because you know, medium rare makes the dish a lot more delicious. It's also soft and chewy." He shrugged like it was not a problem.

I stared blankly at him. The hell? It was okay if it was steak, or lamb; but not foie gras! It's goose liver, it's bound to freely ooze out like wet crap.

"Open your mouth Dianne!" He raised the fork high enough for me to take a bite.

The sound of horrifying music and Brandon's laughing rang in my ears. But again, it's my imagination. "No! It looks gross!" I clamped my mouth shut, slapping both hands onto the top of my mouth for a triple seal.

I know I agreed to uhmm.. Taste a portion of liver but I can't. My body, mouth and mind, soul and heart won't allow me to. I know, drama queen. But I can't bear to look at it, let alone taste it.

"Come on, open your mouth." Brandon allowed his words to come out slow. It was like talking to a baby.

"Mmmm nho! Yhu chnt mhk mhe!" My words came out muffled with two layers of protection on my mouth. I indeed seemed like a baby with the way I was starting to act. I shook my head to avoid that- thing in entering my mouth. I'm being all antsy.

"You agreed Dianne! Now, here comes the aeroplane!"

I stared blankly at him; and for a moment, I stopped shaking my head.