Just Dining

 

The room bustled with activity. Waiters carrying trays scurried from table to kitchen, heat and succulent scents wafting into the dining area every time a waiter passed through the swinging doors. The ripples of laughter and steady murmur of conversation carried the buzz of euphoria, customers knew they were in for a treat. Hadn’t they waited almost a year to get a table. And here they were on Saturday night at the famous Chez Humano. The establishment was packed.

Mr Bear glanced up from his meal and peered through a window that offered a stunning view of a gold red sunset dropping behind a still lake. The silhouette of several shapes moved along the pier.

“What is it,” asked his companion, lifting his face from his plate.

“Ah, I don’t know, I noticed movement there outside.”

His companion licked his fingers. “It’s Saturday night, what do you expect.”

 Mr Bear nodded. “Yeah, but I just read an article this morning on the inter-labyrinth about those crazy protestors, and well…”

“Enjoy your food,” said his companion, licking his plate, “don’t worry about those extremists.”

Mr Bear grunted in agreement and turned back to his food. Slurp, crunch.  His head shot up. “There, again. Look.”

The two stared out the window. A parade of protesters moving towards the restaurant were now plainly in view. Other customers had stopped eating to look out the window, waiters cast nervous glances. One hurried to the kitchen.

The protesters were nearing the entrance as the swinging doors to the kitchen burst open. Chef Boar appeared in the dining area and was promptly flanked by body guards. They moved towards the entrance, but too late, a group of cows, sheep, goats, chickens, turkeys, geese and ducks stormed into the restaurant.

“You have blood on your hooves, claws and paws,” bellowed a Friesen Red charging through the dining area. Tables toppled, emptying their contents onto the floor. Glass shattered; customers wailed.

Mr Dog nipped at her hooves. Mr Fox snapped at a hen.

“Humans were not put here for us to eat,” bleated a sheep. “Stop the carnage.”

The body guards surrounded them, prodding and pushing them towards the door.

Customers, laughed, others looked away. Many continued to eat.

“Get them out, ouuuttttt,” shouted Chef Boar.

The protesters were corralled and expelled.

“Freedom for all living things,” cackled a hen as the door shut.