Lylia's face changed quickly from one expression to another. First shock, then anger, and finally, unwilling amusement. "You know what? This is exactly what I wanted."

"You asked for a spoon that would make fun of you?" Marina said.

Lylia said, "I asked for quality assurance. And it looks like this is how Greg does quality assurance from his own perspective, probably."

"That sounded like sarcasm, but eh... I'm used to it because of Marina, who does that all the time," Greg said while whipping his sweat with the towel that Marina gave.

The Critic's Spoon made a sound that could have been a sniff if spoons had noses. "If you really want to use me for what I'm meant to do, I guess I should look at the current cooking disaster."

"Take me to the soup."

Lylia picked up the spoon and dipped it into the burned soup. She looked both amused and a little scared.

For a moment, the spoon was quiet, and Greg dared to hope that it would just do its job without making too much noise. That hope was gone in about three seconds.

"What the fuck is this..." The spoon said, "IT'S FUCKING BURNED TO FUCKED! THREE OUT OF TEN," at a volume that made everyone cringe. "And I'm being nice because I like that you're trying to use herbs."

"But the execution is fucking terrible. The texture is like pond water, the taste is like someone confused salt with sadness, and the burning adds notes of regret and bad choices in life."

"This isn't food! This is depression in the shape of food! Please help me!"

Marina laughed so hard that she had to sit down. Bork was smiling like a crazy person. Felix was crying because he was trying not to laugh. Seraphine even had a hand over her mouth, and her shoulders were shaking with laughter.

Lylia looked at the spoon with a mix of fear and interest. "Heh, that kind of work doesn't even hurt me in the slightest because I'm used to hearing that from Greg."

"Besides, I made that soup bad on purpose to check on something, of course."

"That doesn't make it okay for it to be there," the spoon said in a stern voice. "On purpose, making things mediocre is worse than failing by accident."

"At least people can forgive mistakes."

"I think I love this spoon," Marina said in a wheezy voice.

Greg muttered, "Of course you do. Because my life wasn't crazy enough already."

Lylia, who was starting to get over her shock, seemed to have made a choice. "Okay, Mister Spoon. Let's see how you rate something that is actually good if you know so much about good food."

She took out a pot of her famous healing stew, the one that made her restaurant famous. The smell was so good, a rich, savory smell that made Greg's mouth water just being in the same room. She put the spoon in, and everyone leaned in to hear what she had to say.

For a moment, the spoon was quiet. Then it spoke, and its voice was almost, almost okay. "Seven out of ten. Good job, you're not a donkey after all."

"The seasoning is just right, the texture is right, and the healing properties are well mixed in. But the ratio of potatoes to carrots is a little off, and I can taste a hint of uncertainty in the broth."

"Did you doubt yourself when you added the thyme? Are you being a donut?"

Lylia's mouth dropped open. "I added the thyme last week because I was worried about the cost of supplies. How could you possibly know that?"

"I am The Critic's Spoon," it said in a snobby way. "I know everything. I taste everything. And I judge everyone without mercy or care for their feelings."

"No matter if someone is talented or not at cooking, if it tastes mid and shit, then I will say it to their faces with a lot of insults!"

Marina said, "This is the best thing that's ever happened," as she wiped her eyes. "You have to use this at the restaurant, Lylia."

"Nah... that' a bad idea, we don't want customers to hear what this spoon says." Lylia shook her head.

"Please! Please! Please! I'm begging you."

"Are you crazy?" Lylia said. "This spoon would start riots."

"Exactly! It would be so funny!"

The door to the workshop flew open as if someone had called for chaos, and three customers from Lylia's Kitchen rushed in, looking scared. Harold, the leader, was a big man who owned the grain mill. He was red-faced and out of breath.

"Miss Lylia! There is a problem at the restaurant! The stew for the afternoon is..."

"What's wrong about it?" Lylia asked, already walking toward the door.

"Well... the stew kinda fine." Harold said. "But everyone is arguing about whether it's as good as yesterday's batch, and someone said they'd pay more for a guarantee that it meets your usual standards."

"Now there's a bidding war going on, and my wife is in it, and I think someone threw a bread roll!"

Lylia shut her eyes and took a deep breath. "Of course there is."

Lylia pointed at Greg with a serious face. "This is your fault, Greg."

"How the fuck is this my fault?" Greg said no. "You asked for the spoon in the first place, don't put me as the victim here!"

"You made the spoon work too well!"

"Well, you already know that what I make turns out weird, so bear with it."

Marina got up, still smiling like a crazy person. "Come on, everyone. We're going to eat out. I need to see this spoon break someone's faith in their cooking."

Seraphine said, "That's not a healthy desire," but she was also standing up and getting her coat.

Elwen said quietly, "I want to see it too."

Bork said with a smile, "Everyone wants to see it. It's called schadenfreude, and it's a normal feeling for people."

"What the fuck was that supposed to mean...?" Greg looked confused.

They all rushed out of the workshop and walked to Lylia's Kitchen, which was only five minutes away. Greg was last, carrying The Critic's Spoon, which had been making comments about Ferndale's architectural choices the whole way.

It had said "pedestrian" about the bakery. "Works but isn't very interesting," about the blacksmith's shop. "An absolute tragedy," about someone's flower garden.

When they got to the restaurant, it was in a state of controlled chaos. People were crowded around tables, pointing at bowls of stew, and arguing loudly. Lylia's staff looked like they were having a hard time keeping customers calm while also taking orders and serving food.

"That's good," Lylia said quietly. "It's worse than I thought."

Marina patted her shoulder in a kind way. "Don't worry. The spoon will make everything better, I'm sure."

"That doesn't make me feel better at all, though..."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.