In eight hours, Vishnal managed to scrub the bathroom floors, clean up the Dragon Room, do the laundry twice, spruce up the exterior of Selphia Castle, give Ventuswill a much-needed back massage, tend to the farm, pick up confetti and litter from the Town Square, make the Inn's beds, and finally make a quick stop at the General Store for some groceries.
Every minute of those eight hours, however, no matter how preoccupied with whatever task he was doing, one thing was invariably on his mind: the cooking lessons.
With each hour that passed by, Vishnal just grew more and more excited. One less hour to wait, and one less hour to know how to make delicious food and impress Frey.
Finally, he thought, it's two o'clock. I can come in the restaurant a horrible chef, and come out like I know everything there is to cooking.
Vishnal stood outside the restaurant, the sunflowers right next to it giving out an air of maturity and confidence, something he clearly didn't have when it came to cooking.
Now that he thought about it, the golden-colored lobster statue in the middle of the two doors and the knife and fork above one of them... they seemed intimidating. What if, Vishnal gulped, there are chefs in there much better than me? What if I fail miserably and everybody else, including Porco, laughs at me? I don't know. Should I even go in there at all? I can maybe lie to Frey, saying I went in there, but they didn't teach me anything useful so I still retain my horrible skills...
Immediately, he mentally slapped himself. As nerve-wracking as it was, he knew he had to do it for Frey, and the rest of Selphia. The greatest butler in the world wasn't supposed to have even one minor flaw! Alright, he told himself, I'm going in. I just hope I don't see a chef who tends to lose his temper on a cooking show or a reality show. I don't want to hear about non-stick pans...
He pushed the double-doors open with all his might, half-expecting his life to flash before his eyes while some nitwit threw a hot, not-yet-ready-to-come-off-the-frying-pan pancake at him, giving him severe burns, and somehow, lacerations.
Fortunately for him, his worst-case scenario did not happen, as he was greeted with a different layout: those plants were still at the side when an individual entered, but the tables were arranged differently, as if in a classroom.
Porcoline's kitchen was filled to the brim with various food items, random and messy stacks of paper, and instead of the usual tables, there were three long wooden tables with a matching wooden chair in the middle of them in every row, with three columns of each.
In every table was a portable burner and on top of it was a stainless-steel frying pan. Next to the burners and pans were bowls, and alongside that were assortments of fruits and vegetables.
Taking the middle seat in the first column, Vishnal couldn't help but wonder: what were they going to make today? Seeing as how it contained fruits and vegetables, it had to be a salad, right? Maybe a compote of some sort?
After what seemed to be years of wondering and pondering, he was suddenly startled by a rather large "Ahem!" and immediately turned around to see who - or what, even - the source of that dreadful noise could have been.
Near the entrance of the restaurant stood the grand chef Porcoline De Sainte-Coquille himself: he was quite the pudgy man, his many pockets stuffed to the brim with smorgasbords of spices and herbs, along with the occasional ingredients for various things. He did a dramatic hair-flip, letting his pinkish-blond hair show off for a moment, and took a big breath.
Oh, no... Vishnal thought, as he felt his stomach sink. He endured himself for what was about to come.
"Welcome to my magnifique cooking class!" Porco bellowed, his large voice emanating so much force, that if he had spoken a little bit louder, he could potentially blow away half of the Selphia Castle.
Silence immediately succeeded the statement.
Porco blinked once, then twice, his face eventually reddening "Oh. Ohhhh. I'm sorry. It seems like.. you're the only one here, Vishnal. ...It's four minutes past the scheduled class time! Where is everybody?"
Vishnal shrugged. It seemed like everybody else was running late; that is, if there was anyone else attending the cooking class. He resumed staring intently at the assortment of fruits and vegetables, seeing if somehow he could absorb the power of cooking that way, while Porcoline began flailing around and stomping like a lost, angry, child. He looked at his watch after quite a while, only to make a horrifying discovery.
"Now it's five minutes past the scheduled class time! I swear, if nobody else comes seven minutes past the class time, I guess I'll have to -"
"Shut up, horse-man!" A brash voice cut Porcoline's threat.
"Midget!" came a deeper voice, and one the chef knew very well.
After a few seconds of the two exchanging names and quite unfriendly words, a strong-willed female voice yelled out: "Oh, you two, stop! I didn't come all the way to the restaurant to hear your quarreling and fighting! Kiss and make up already!"
Vishnal gave a knowing smirk. Of course. Doug, Dylas and Forte were going to join him as well. At least he didn't have to endure eye contact with Porco along with creepy remarks the whole lesson.
Porco stepped aside to let the three new guests in properly and walked over to the kitchen counter. "Well, now I can say this with pride and confidence! Welcome to my magnifique cooking class! ...And you three are just in time! Seven minutes after the class was supposed to start, here you all are! Now, take a seat, take a seat. But please, pray tell why you four wanted to attend the cooking class? Is it because you all wanted to fawn over me?"
Vishnal felt a pang of unease as Dylas took the seat left to him, and Doug took the right. Even though he was staring straight ahead, making sure not to meet eyes with Porco, he could unfortunately see the two mouthing (what appeared to be) death threats to each other, which somehow Porco ignored.
Forte who was sitting behind Dylas, decided to speak first. "Ah, yes. I'm not sure if the town has known already, but I'm not... renowned for being the best cook. Kiel usually does the cooking in my house, but I feel as if that's becoming a burden to him. He's growing up, and while yes, he is a responsible young man, I want him to enjoy life a little more by making one of his responsibilities my responsibility. Which is why I have decided to attend this cooking class."
"Oh, how sweet of you, Forte. And, ahhh... Doug! Mind telling why you've decided to join?"
"Uh. Yeah, Porco, okay. So, Granny Blossom, she cooks pretty well, right? But she's old and stuff. I'm not saying she's super old or anything, because she's not... but I want to be the man of the house. I'm tired of making rice balls and rice every day for dinner. I decided to join this class so I can make new stuff. Like... rice and eggs! And.. rice balls with stuff in it! And, hey, if we're doing popcorn reading... er, answering, I want Horse-butt to say some stuff, and Vishnal can go last."
"...Doug. I swear to God I will get a fishing rod and strangle you with it. Anyways, I'm just here to see Doug suffer, Porco. I know I work here with Meg, but it's fun to kick back, relax, and see your arch-enemy get third degree-burns while frying carrots because he's that dumb of an elf."
"Well, I actually didn't think of joining this class until Princess - er, Frey recommended it to me. Earlier this morning I tried making her a waffle and... burned it to a crisp. I didn't even know it was bad. Personally I thought it looked like something from a five-star restaurant... but I guess I was wrong. I'm determined to come out of this lesson knowing how to make something edible."
As soon as the words left Vishnal's lips, Porco nodded. "Well, I see! All valid reasons from all of you! Bravo! Now, are all of you ready to learn how to make.. a vegetable stir-fry served over rice?"
"A what?!" was Dylas' reply. "Don't we need a wok for that kind of stuff? "
"...Well! I figured why not use a frying pan instead? All you have to do is-"
A very heavy sigh; Dylas wasn't one for lectures and speeches. "Alright. I understand, we'll just use frying pans instead."
At that, Porco clapped his hands in an extravagant way and resumed talking.
"Now, I assume all of you know what to do when you have vegetables such as bell peppers and bok choy, non?"
Dylas stared straight ahead at Doug, who was beginning to sweat in what seemed apprehension. Vishnal and Forte, however, looked absolutely clueless.
"You... eat them?" Vishnal suggested meekly.
Porco had the very strong urge to facepalm. Oh, don't be that way, scolded himself, most, if not all of them, seem to be novices in the culinary world. Just... guide them and they'll be fine.
"Nooo," he said, trying very hard to maintain his demeanor, "you cut them. I want all of you to fish out a red bell pepper from the bowl and, well... cut them."
Forte's hand immediately shot up. "But, Porco, I am afraid we don't have any - "
"Just use the wooden tables as impromptu cutting boards!" Porco shouted, his temper flaring. "I don't get paid enough to supply the most expensive cutting boards for this class! ...Well, yes, I know I have enough to buy state-of-the-art burners and frying pans, but still! Don't question how I spend my money!"
Forte nodded apprehensively. Nobody had actually seen the chef lose his temper, but it was rumored that it was vicious.
She cautiously cut the bell peppers into small strips, and everyone, fearing for their lives, followed suit.
Porco gave a smile, after seeing how everybody had went ahead and heeded his simple instructions. "Good, good! Now that they have been cut up into strips, I'd like all of you to go ahead and take an onion and carrot or two... and cut them. Dice them if you have to. I don't care."
...What do you mean you don't care?, thought Vishnal, this is a cooking class!
Somehow, Porco took note of Vishnal's problematic thoughts and addressed them. "Now, I know some of you might be thinking, what do I mean when I say I don't care? Well, I just don't care. This isn't a cooking competition, now is it? So do whatever. All I care about is if you used the right ingredients or not."
Everybody almost face-faulted, Doug being in so much shock he nearly cut off his finger.
"...What."
"Yes, yes, I know. But this is a beginner cooking class, remember? You're allowed to be free, you're allowed to do whatever you would like to modify the dish we are all making. No dish is created equal. ...I think."
After everybody had diced the onions and carrots, Vishnal felt the sensation of a throbbing headache. This class seemed to be a bad idea. Porco was out of it. Everybody else was just as bad as him.
"Alright!" Porco yelled out happily. "Now I'm afraid the rice we're supposed to serve the stir-fry over isn't quite ready yet... I ate the rice we were supposed to be using... so I'll get to that in a moment - but why not grab some peas and turn on the frying pan? Just, you know, stir the vegetables until they're tender."
Doug groaned, Dylas told his rival something along the lines of "shut up", Forte nodded, and Vishnal just stood there, as Porco went out of the room to retrieve a rice cooker. The class had only been in session for... twenty minutes. Was that it? The first dish they would ever make as a class would really take twenty minutes? Vishnal sighed. He had expected it to be a little longer, going over the basics of everything such as how to cut things properly or stir things. Listen to a first-day lecture or something. Anything but what was happening right now: the feeling of being rushed into how to make a dish.
Reluctantly, he turned the knob of the portable burner to the left until the dial was pointing at the second setting: the number two. He scooped up the mixed vegetable chunks that were (on his table, anyway) laying everywhere, with a few carrot pieces even threatening to topple over to the ground, and placed them in the pan.
Everything was going to go fine, right? Somehow he hadn't killed anyone yet while he was cutting the food up - no accidental throwing the knife at someone, or somehow flipping the table over to crush anyone near him.
The fact that he wasn't a klutz for at least today gave him confidence. All was well.
He began to smile. Of course! If he wasn't a klutz today, he probably wouldn't be one the next time they held the class, and the next time after that - everything seemed to going peachy. Speaking of peaches, mused Vishnal, if I gain enough cooking skill I could make peach cobbler for Princess, or some soul food, maybe something Cajun if I have the chance-
"Oi! Vishnal! Your stuff's burnin'! God, turn the burner off before you start a fire!"
That sentence bellowed by Doug snapped him back to reality. He looked down: the diced carrots, peas, and onions, along with the red bell pepper strips were all black as charcoal.
Just like every other dish he tried to make in his lifetime.
"Are you serious?!" he screamed, nearly as loud as Porco did the first time he had entered the building.
The aforementioned chef came back with a rice cooker, along with a few cups of rice, only to have a horrified look on his face. Placing the cooker and cups on his kitchen counter, he ran towards Vishnal's table as the butler shamefully turned the burner off.
"Oh, my. Oh, my. Ohhhh my. It seems that you have... burned the vegetables. Pretty badly, too. Never in my lifetime have I seen vegetables this badly burnt!"
"I'm sorry, Porco. I thought taking this class would be a good idea, but I suppose - "
"That's fine," Porcoline gave Vishnal quite the eerie smile, "it's alright, it's okay, it's wonderful. You can always t-try... try again. Just... not this time. I.. I need some peace and quiet. ...Class is dismissed. Dylas, you help me clean this up."
Everybody turned to look at Vishnal, giving him rather harsh glares.
"Go, please! The actual restuarant will open soon enough for a party of one thousand, just not... right now!"
Great. Not only was Porco ending class early, but it seemed like Porco was trying to hide his seething anger, along with sobs and sniffles.
The glares at him intensified.
Fortunately looks couldn't kill. If they did, somehow... he'd be dead five times.
"...So? How'd the cooking class go?" Frey asked Vishnal that evening. The two of them were in his room, him sitting down on his bed, reading a butler book while Frey was standing up.
"The cooking class? It was... well... will you promise not to make fun of me for what happened?"
Frey mentally fist-pumped. Did he actually learn a gourmet recipe and made it so well everybody became envious?
"Of course not, Vishnal. I'd never."
Vishnal nodded, closing the butler book and setting it down next to him on his bed. "I may have burned some really simple vegetables. I was daydreaming about what types of food I could make for you if I had happened to be successful, and... Porcoline got mad about it. He ended class early just because of it, and everybody else in the class got mad at me. Or so it seemed."
Frey gasped, her dainty hands over her mouth. So he didn't learn how to cook something like Beef Wellington, which was... disappointing, to say the least.
"It's alright, Vishnal. Everybody makes mistakes. I accidentally chopped a sign in half when I was trying to hunt some Woolies down, if that makes you feel better. And hey, there's always a next time, isn't there?"
The butler looked at the floor. "Um, Princess, seeing how I ruined the whole class, I don't think there's going to be a next time..."
His significant other's determined face faltered. "Oh. Well, that's fine. You know, all you have to do is try your hardest. If you practice every day, or at least, almost every day, you'll be fine."
She quickly hugged him. "I'm sorry, but I've gotta go. Those crops don't water themselves. ...Stupid monsters! Why do I have to feed you to get your friendship high enough?" she asked herself, walking away towards the farm area.
Vishnal sighed. She was right. Practicing every day would eventually lead to success. It was what he had been doing for a while now, cooking every day... but he was determined to turn over a new leaf.
Picking up the big book by his side, he flipped the pages until he reached the section he'd always skipped over, deeming it pointless in the past:
"Section Five: The Basics of Cooking - Impress Everyone You Know!"
But before the real fun could begin, he took out a small piece of paper from one of his spare butler notebooks, hastily wrote "PLEASE DO NOT DISTURB" on it and taped it on the outer wall for everybody to see.
Vishnal needed peace and quiet if he was going to read up on cooking. He cracked a smile, eager to delve into the world of cooking basics, then move on to more complicated things.
It was going to be a long night.