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  • Writer's pictureJeff South

Cincinnati Chili: Dragon

“I can’t believe you actually got it.” Gwen’s voice shook. She had rushed over to Grover’s apartment after learning he had procured the Cincinnati Chili.

“What do we do with it?”

They stared at the container on his counter. The lid was open revealing the contents a thick dark red meat sauce covered a bed of spaghetti.

“What the hell is this?” Gwen bent slightly at the waist for a closer examination. “This isn’t what I was expecting.”

“It appears to literally be Cincinnati chili. I’ve never had any before. Have you?”

“What? No. I don’t like chili. Makes me feel like I have dragon breath.” Gwen picked up the Styrofoam container and its disappointing stuff inside. “Unbelievable.”

“What were you hoping for?”

“I dunno.” She tossed the chili back down on the counter and stepped away. “All this build up only to find out Cincinnati chili is just Cincinnati chili? Talk about a letdown.”

Grover had to admit he was a bit underwhelmed, too. He had been obsessed with discovering what this wall about ever since that recalled email. All the sleepless nights and endless brooding about the possibility of a top secret Corporate project only to discover he had risked his job to steal leftovers from a lab fridge? What a bunch of crap.

“Something’s not right,” he said. “There has to be more to this.”

“My buyers are going to be so disappointed.” Gwen shuffled to the dining room table and plopped into a chair.

“What? Buyers?”

She looked back to Grover, eyes wide. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes, you did.”

She sighed. “Can I trust you?”

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