The Last Supper Before Ragnarok by Cassandra Khaw

Author:Cassandra Khaw
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
Publisher: Rebellion Publishing Ltd

ELEVEN

I FUCKING LOVE Korean barbeque. I love gogi gui so much that it actually succeeds in anaesthetising my terror, leaving me drunk, ravenous, and happy to die so long as someone keeps spooning me rich mouthfuls of jumulleok right to the end. The restaurant that Naree picks out is, to no one’s surprise, the real deal: a hole-in-the-wall extravaganza packed to the lungs with people. The perfume of sizzling meat shimmers through the air. I can smell galbi of every kind. Were I not almost entirely certain that this is a bad idea and we are all going to suffer grievous bodily harm, I’d think I was in heaven.

“Who wants soju?” asks Naree.

A round of hands shoot up.

“Anyone here lactose-intolerant?” she continues.

Cason tilts his head, confused. “Are you ordering eggnog?”

“Not a terrible idea, but I don’t think we’re close enough to Christmas. No, the first round is going to be makgeolli.”

“Geseunheit,” Fitz says.

“Do not make racist jokes at my wedding—”

“That wasn’t where I was going with that!” He throws his arms up, almost broadsiding an Asian woman of indeterminable age. I’d hazard her to be in her late thirties, early forties, but I’d rather have my intestines strung across the interstate than ask. She collects herself and smiles thinly at Fitz, an expression that might be parsed as friendly, but only if you’re blind. Under her withering stare, Fitz shrinks, mouthing sorries until she steps around him to pad over to Naree.

Her eyes make an orbit of our table, expression shifting between subtle disapproval and even subtler disappointment. Naree alone, it seems, merits warmth. The two have a short exchange in Korean before she prowls away.

“Alright. Yoghurty rice wine coming our way.” Naree claps her hands together. Tanis has shed her wedding attire for a more practical get-up: leather jacket, undershirt, boots, blue jeans strung with chains. Naree, on the other hand, has not. She practically glows in the restaurant’s oddly harsh lighting, dark hair crowned by a single purple orchid. “Now we get to the fun part. How many of you have gone to a Korean BBQ?”

Cason and I raise our hands.

“How many of you can cook?”

“Define ‘cook,’” says Fitz.

“Bacon, french toast, scrambled eggs—does that count?” says Cason.

“Depends on how well they’re received.”

“My kids have not died of food poisoning yet.”

“Have you ever gotten a compliment for your cooking?” Naree folds her arms under her breasts and leans forward, which has the three of us scrabbling to look in every direction but cleavage. The giggle that follows is not malevolent, per se, but it has certainly considered malevolence.

“I have been told it’s wonderfully serviceable by the wife,” Cason replied.

I look over at him. “That isn’t a compliment.”

“My wife has exacting standards.”

“Being told that you are competent at mediocrity is not a compliment.”

Naree interrupts. “Bride calls vetoing power. No more jabbering. Rupert, stop poking fun at the soccer dad. Settle this outside.”

“I would, but I don’t want to get eaten by a crocodile.” Pause for effect. “Again.”

“Then behave.” She kills the conversation for a full minute.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.