I Say, Those My Eggs

“I say, those my eggs, the best food of the best foods?” he said with a wide-overbite-of-a-smile that nearly engulfed the top half of his face.  

We didn’t know what to say. We didn’t know what to do. Chevron displayed his ignorance by nodding and handing the eggs over to the Ambassador. 

“Have you had eggs before?” Macie asked, knowing very well his most highness of highnesses had never touched an egg in his life.

“I do love a good bit of eggs. Love how they just sit in the mouth before you chew them. How they turn smaller once you take a few bites. How they get in your stomach in a pleasing way.” the Ambassador said. 

He was not a man of eloquence. 

Nothing showed his in-eloquence more than when he took the frying pan in his hands, dunked his face into the bowl, and began munching on the eggs. He completely bypassed the fork. He lifted his head over the dish, stared very seriously at the three of us. He looked like he was trying to calculate which head he wanted to have cut off first. 

“This needs something,” he said, very displeased. “It needs pepper.” 

“Have you had pepper before?” Macie asked, knowing very well his most highness of highnesses had never touched pepper in his life. 

“I do love a good bit of pepper,” the Ambassador began. He should have stopped then because what happened next was something that was almost as rare as peppered eggs.