The Restaurant At The End Of The Multiverse

Once, my friend and restauranteur, Gibson Gordon Lothario Vong, otherwise known abbreviatedly as GiGoLo Vong, ran into some trouble at his now famous outlet, famous not only for its Bombay Duck, prepared to evoke salivation of nuclear proportion, but also for its anaconda-size moniker: East Of The Sun, West Of The Moon.

Don't ask how they managed to fit all that into the neon signboard. That signmaker must be a superhero.

Anyway, one night, when the restaurant was quite full, Gibson, who was in the kitchen attending to some business related to an underestimated order of fresh Mexican garlic, a matter somehow connected to the almost fatal argument between the sous-chef and the short-order cook (yes, an unusual combination!), heard some commotion on the floor, and decided to inspect the outbursts himself.

A customer was kicking up a fuss about something, and from experience, Gibson knew that the arms-akimbo posture was never a good sign.

He approached the table and politely enquired about the trouble.

"Sir, there is a lizard in my soup!"

Gibson could probably have been the greatest poker player in the universe, had he not decided to become an entrepreneur instead, a decision spurred on by his discovery of the James Hillman book, The Soul's Code, after which Gibson became fully convinced, with mule-level obstinance, that the day he cut his hand on a card, playing poker while having Pacific West tempura fish with a cup of Heintz country mushroom soup, was a sure sign of his true vocation.

So, here he was, on that fateful night, facing an earth-shattering, career-sodomising crisis, with nary a frown, nor a fright, on his chiselled features.

"Well, sir, what exactly is the nature of your complaint?"

"What?! There ... is ... a ... LIZARD ... in my soup!"

"Yes, sir, I certainly can see that."

"And ... ?"

At this point, Gibson picked up the dripping lizard between forefinger and thumb - and popped it right into his mouth.

And chewed.

He swallowed, hard. "Well, sir, it does seem a little undercooked. May we offer a replacement?"

Stunned and speechless. Not a word.

"I shall take that as a no, then."

And Gibson walked away.

But of course, later that night, heads rolled.