• Jeff South

Cincinnati Chili: Pattern

Grover stepped into a room that looked as if it had been ordered direct from the Science Fiction Top Secret Lab Catalog. Microscopes, flasks, test tubes, and beakers adorned tall counters. He walked along a bank of laptops sitting on desks. The wall above them was a giant whiteboard covered with equations, scribbles, and diagrams. None of it made sense to Grover. The opposite wall was also a dry erase with a string of numbers and letters scrawled on it:


5, q, a, 9, 16, 17, v, 24, 43, e


He stared at the alphanumeric collection for several seconds under the delusion he could determine its meaning or decipher a pattern. This was the moment he realized he should’ve worked harder in school. A sense of defeat washed over his entire being. Why was he doing this? Even Charlamagne tha God couldn’t help him now. His mind wandered to the other Charlemagne, who was also useless in this moment.


Grover hung his head. Had his whole life been leading to this one humiliating moment of futility? Why did Gwen give him the Rube Goldberg Protocols if he couldn’t even find what he was looking for? He needed a sign. He threw his arms up in the air and released an audible sigh of frustration.


That is when he saw the sign. It was on the door of a refrigerator in the corner. A single sheet of paper with a message printed in Comic Sans font adored the front:


DON’T THROW AWAY THE CINCINNATI CHILI THIS TIME, RAJ!

13 views

Recent Posts

See All

Blogtober, Day 31

Word of the Day: Broken Leslie admired the corner chair that now sat in the middle of their garage and wondered if this while Marty thumbed through a comic book he found after scoring no albums. “I’l

Blogtober, Day 30

Word of the Day: Burn “What is wrong with you?” Leslie shook her head at her husband and used her inner monologue to remind her why she was attracted to him the first place because he was acting like

© 2017 by JEFF SOUTH. Proudly created with Wix.com