“My name’s Bruno and I’ll be your waiter today,” said Bruno, a large Kodiak bear wearing an ill-fitting tuxedo.
What Meredith and Stanley Drangler heard instead was nothing but growls, and quite frankly they had expected more from Les Griffes.
The only, and therefore, highest and most exclusive French restaurant in the British Columbian Rockies, Les Griffes had a waiting list that was over a year long; longer if no one could pull strings for you.
It was also hard to get to; 48 hours prior to reservation, couples were airdropped from a converted World War Two Lancaster (one of only two still flying) somewhere within 50 kilometres of the restaurant. They were given the barest of survival gear, and no food; the better to work up an appetite when and if they were able to find the restaurant. Missing your reservation resulted in immediate cancellation.
The Dranglers had dropped with 3 other couples, and had fared quite well, arriving only two hours later than the Austrians, who were now into dessert.
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The Italian couple had fared better, but only by half. Mrs. Buenocolireminelli – a very mousey woman – had been attacked by owls. Mr. Buenocolireminelli now sat at the bar, consoling himself with many Comparis, going through the mistresses on his contact list with whom he was still on speaking terms.
The Dranglers stared stupidly at Bruno, who realized his translation collar was malfunctioning… again. Bruno knew management would blame him – again. They had it in for him because of all his pro-union talk.
And so, when Mrs. Drangler innocently requested a different waiter, Bruno lost his bear shit. When the mauling began, the wolves joined in… for the third time today.
