As the war between the preservationists and the seekers carries on, the people of Arcadia cry out. The lives they had have been thrown out the window, and they seek something to soothe themselves. And the best way to do that? A good show after a good meal. For food is the way to the soul of any man, woman or child.

Nourishing the soul is one of the kindest things you can do, and to make something that not only is enjoyed by others, but builds them up is one of the most divine things one could do in the fields of work in Arcadia. With the hands of chefs, we feed the world.

To take one with skill and refine them to the top is nothing short of spectacular, a king in their own right worth a crown (or belt) of gold to adorn themselves. But the ruler beware, for the gold is as much of a vice as any can ever be.

On that, we have seen how vice leads to the downfall of a high and mighty chef. So close that Anton was to getting ahold of a world championship belt. Prime in his career, prime in his wrestling, he should have been a michelin star deal.

Never saw it coming though. That lying in a bed of snakes would not present the top dish recipe, but tie you into falling against the one man you had to beat. When the heat got brought up in the ring, you handled it as best you could.

Sad to say that you couldn’t take the heat, and lost the real victory. Too raw to finish the deal. Just another cook trying to make it big, and falling to the whims of the world’s too refined palate for success.

Actually cooking for people that need it can trump the fanciest chef any day. I’ve spent time and time again out in the soup kitchens, passing meals to the ones starving again and again. Face to face with the darker side of the soup kitchen, the desperation and need.

Victory doesn’t come from the rewards of the top giving gold stars to show work. It comes from getting down in the grit and bringing those below you. Being cutthroat just leaves your neck on the chopping block at the end.

Only those that are willing to survive the heat, get real down and dirty to make it through. Because at the end of the day, everything in the kitchen is a show of it’s own, a mad dash that turns into a show that entertains all. Because in the end, what kind of a meal doesn’t go great with the demonstration of a show?

Rather bit of a shame you won’t be around to see it. Burnt to a crisp like the garbage meals you throw out in the morning bin, you’ll be worth less than the meal you could get in a fuckin soup kitchen. Waste to be disposed of.