I'd worked my way from snails up to frogs

I'd worked my way from snails up to frogs legs. My friend Gaston smiled winningly."It tastes best raw. Cooking ze Foie Gras eez tragique". I swallowed. Next stop the parasitologist

-s Kitchen which was the name of the New French Restaurant at the mall. Gaston was cool, but he was hard to be around. He ate 2 dozen eggs, was the size of a barge and covered in h

ickies.French, and the mall’s “it” Chef, he was quite a ladies’ man.When he fell in the Andouillettes dead of a heart attack,I was suddenly moved from brochette skewer to Head Chef

What's His Face. He was secretly a power bottom and the word around the kitchen was you can tell he's the "head" chef because he's the one with the dirty knees. But his

secret sauce's nothing to shake a wooden spoon at. Rumor has it he tastes everyone's porridge & knows how to simmer at perfect heat. Here, this sous chef gives the mozzarella a tug

And the cheese showed its teeth by biting his hand. He was rushed on a gurney to Gurnee, where his hand became monkeyish and he grew fur and had 4 legs and even a tail. Imagine how

He no longer belonged with the advanced race of humankind, he belonged with the other monkeys, like him. So he ran as quickly as he could to the local Zoo, where perhaps the

other monkeys would accept him, but he was shunned there as well. But one night, Ah-Ah-Eee reassured him with monkey pats that we are all star-born flowers in this world. He nearly

cried tears of joy! "And one day," Ah-Ah-Eee continued, "the earth will be destroyed, and your atoms (which were created in the center of stars) will tumble back out into space."