[LNH20] Sous Generis (one-shot)

[Dave Van Domelen]

Coherent Comics UnInc. Presents a tale from the backstory of the LNH20:
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                            "Sous Generis"
                    copyright 2012 by Dave Van Domelen
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[Several years ago, but after the fall of the Killfile]

     "Thank you, stranger!  With the LNH busy on some undefined but certainly
vitally important case that got them out of the way for the convenience of
the plot, that creature would surely have hurt a lot of people if you hadn't
shown up!" gasped a young man in a hollandaise-spattered security guard
uniform.  "Sorry...I'm studying Exposition at the City College, but I'm still
just a freshman."
     "No worries, young one," a robed man nodded.  Despite the carnage around
the two, his crimson and gold robe and matching cylindrical hat were
immaculate, and the sheathed knives at his waist had already been cleaned and
put away.  "The lagomorphic lamia had a craving for ham, as all of its sort
do, but shared the racial curse of being unable to recognize ham when
presented with one.  Dealing with this sort of dilemma is part of the
training any Sous Chef, much less the Sous Chef Supreme, must undergo in my
homeland."
     "But how did you get around the impasse?" a battered short order cook
asked.  He had been the first to respond to the emergency when the demonic
hare emerged in one of central Netropolis's high rise buildings, but he had
not been equal to the task of meeting the monster's demands.
     "Ah, that is the test, isn't it?  When you know the answer yourself, you
will be ready to take up your apprenticeship in the culinary halls of
Sugary-La," the robed man winked.  "You have the courage, perhaps your path
may one day lead you to take my place as Sous Chef Supreme."

               *              *              *              *

     With the confidence of a man who had faced a ravenous rabbit of unusual
size and mystic powers before breakfast (the facing had been before
breakfast, the rabbit had mystical powers all day except during high tea, a
weakness the man had been unable to exploit due to the urgency and
aforementioned before-breakfastness of the crisis), the Sous Chef Supreme
entered one of many seemingly identical rooms in Netropolis City Hall.
     "Hello, I would like to open a restaurant in this city.  I was informed
that I needed the permission of the local elders."
     "Aldermen," corrected the nondescript man behind the desk.  He was
unremarkable in a way that was in itself remarkable, if you thought about it
for a moment and were trained in the mystic arts, culinary branch or
otherwise.
     "Ah, yes.  That.  I am still learning your language."
     "Well, you did manage to find the correct office, which indicates good
luck or perseverence.  What sort of restaurant would this be?"  The
nondescript man was typing away on his nondescript computer, calling to the
screen a form which reminded the Sous Chef Surpreme of some of the more
complicated ritual recipes.
     "I am the Sous Chef Supreme, disciple of the Chef of Iron in the
Mountain Fastness of Sugary-La.  It is my sacred charge to spread the
blessings of our mystic cuisine to the world at large."
     With a flurry of keystrokes, the original form vanished, only to be
replaced by one that was simple to the point of raising alarms in the back of
the Sous Chef's mind.  If the previous form was a complex ritual, this was
more of an emergency "get it done before something emerges from a hellmouth"
procedure.
     "Ah, yes, a standard Utopian Emissary business plan.  We get those
occasionally, although I'd admit this is the first time it's taken the form
of a restaurant.  Due to certain recent, ah, explosions, there's only one
part of the city zoned for the sort of business you propose.  On the up side,
the rent is free and you'll be serving a rather high-profile clientele...."

               *              *              *              *

[Several years ago, but one day after the previous scene, and not before
breakfast but rather exactly at breakfast]

     "Blueberry waffles with raspberry jam?  How did you know that's my
favorite?" The Random Background Legionnaire gasped.
     "A Sous Chef Supreme makes it his business to know these things...."

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Author's Notes:

     Appropriately, I wrote this while waiting for my lunch to cook in the
office toaster oven.  I took a chunk of dialogue I wrote in the LNH20 Comics
Presents #7 thread, expanded on it and wrapped it in a couple of other short
scenes to provide the LNH with its resident food prep expert.
     The training of a Sugary-Lavian chef includes a lot of the stereotypical
Mysterious Asian Mountain Monastery stuff like martial arts and the sort of
things you'd see in the Ranma episode that involved a cooking competition.
This is helpful in surviving (and occasionally helping put down) the
inevitable food fights.  He would much rather solve problems with a good
meal, but if pressed he's a decent combatant and has some wicked sharp knives
(although he'd have to ritually purify them if he had to use them against a
living being).
     Also, Devil Bunny Needs A Ham.