Shrimp with Ela
In downtown Roanoke, streets were bustling, lights were flashing, and businesses were booming. The two winged beings strolled aimlessly down, obviously lost.
“Where did you intend to lead us, Ela?” Griffin asked with a moan, drawing the attention of every intoxicated woman nearby. The red-head tossed a glare over her shoulder.
“We’re going to dinner, so I’d appreciate it if you shut your trap,” she retorted, quickening her pace.
“Do you even know the name of the place?” Griffin demanded skeptically. Rolling her eyes, Ela came to a stop, spinning around to face him.
“Yeah, Griffin, obviously I know the name. I’m not an idiot.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him immediately. “Don’t even. It’s Parker’s Seafood Company.”
“But where is it? Are you prepared at all?”
“Look behind you,” she ordered, pointing sharply toward a large, red and white building. The sigh before it read “Parker’s Seafood Restaurant.”
“Well, I will be d*mned,” he muttered under his breath.
Ela led the way inside, pulling Griffin by a tight hold on his wrist into the building.
“As all you folks know, we’re having a contest today,” an overweight man with a curling mustache declared into a megaphone, his words drawing an excited murmur from the crowd. “Whoever eats the plate of shrimp in the shortest amount of time, gets their meal and a guest’s meal for free. Only five dollars to enter!”
“This is what I came for,” Ela practically drooled, wringing her hands together.
“Any volunteers, step right up. Take a seat at the table and prepare to chow down! I hope you’re hungry.”
Ela immediately shot forward to steal the center chair, tossing a five dollar bill into the man’s hand as the entrance fee.
“Looks like somebody’s a little eager,” the man teased, laughing heartily into the megaphone.
Soon enough, the long table was filled with hopeful contestants, Ela’s face housing a cocky expression. Griffin only stared in confusion, his eyes wide.
Hefty men began to fill the other seats, sneering at the small girl in the center.
“You’ll be eliminated in no time,” one of them chuckled, taking the seat beside her. In response, she smiled.
“We’ll see about that, chump.”
Once the well-dressed waiters brought towering plates of seafood out, the mustachioed man announced the start of the competition.
“Now, remember, don’t overdo yourselves. Wouldn’t want a trip to the hospital, now would ya?” He laughed at his joke. No one else did. “Alright, well, on your mark, get set.... GO!”
The men around her began to stuff their faces with shrimp, chewing loudly and laughing all the while. However, Ela started off slow, eating one shrimp at a time.
That changed rather quickly.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she shot a condescending look at each man around her, and, with a smirk, she began scooping handfuls of food into her mouth and chewing it like there was no tomorrow.
The plate was nearly empty in one minute.
As she licked her fingers, she held up a single shrimp, the last on her plate, and shouted to the man.
“Um, can I get some sauce for this one?” she demanded, not bothering to hide her grin as she peered at the choking men beside her. Under her breath, she muttered, “Amateurs.”
The man in charge was astounded, stunned speechless, but he managed to regain his wits about him after a few seconds.
“Um... it seems like we have a winner, folks,” he announced, earning groans of disappointment (and defeat) from the other competitors.
Ela received her winning ticket and strode back to Griffin whose mouth hung wide open.
“That’s how it’s done, Spike.”
“How... how did you... How could you beat those men? They looked as though they were professionals!” Griffin exclaimed, his eyes wide.
“When you love food as much as I do, there’s always a way,” she smirked, laughing at his unyielding expression. “‘You hungry? I’m in the mood for some seafood.”
