See No Evil; Hear No Evil; And Speak No Evil (short story conclusion to) | A Pop Up WeWrite by @owasco

"What the hell's wrong now! Mateo, you just quit last month!" Stanley Shankling, cried.

As boss, keeping his kitchen under control worked his last nerve.

Staring at Mateo, in a steely voice, he uttered, "now I advise you stick to your cold dishes and leave the hot plates the hell alone!"

Face flushed, Mateo pounded his fists on his prep station, then swung around facing Stanley. "This place is dirty. There's rat droppings in the pantry, bugs in the grilling seasoning, and God knows what else. I'll not stain my cold dishes any longer with the filth surrounding them!"

Shocked and knowing the City Inspector was his guest tonight, Stanley nervously retreated until his foot touched the kitchen door.

Hands shaking, his short, stubby finger pointed to the document on the wall. "This inspection certificate here stating otherwise is my proof. I'll sue for libel if you spread one ounce of filth about the sanitation of my kitchen!"

"For the right price, you can buy any proof, Mateo sneered" With that, he jerked off his apron, threw it to the floor, and headed toward the exit.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Mateo grabbed it and stormed out just as Rosilee, the head waitress, rushed through. She knew immediately something had boiled over.

Stanley quickly pressed her and the new hire into service. "Matthew, finish plating the salads! Rosilee, execute your five-minute lesson. Now!" Finished, he rushed behind the general prep table.

He stopped short of the grilled fish, only inches from his foot, staring up at him with a left eye.

Another step, and it would've been perfect in fish soup!

Stanley looked up at the remaining staff. "Grillman, refresh this fish immediately and mop up! Everyone else, we've got dinner in ten minutes! What the hell are you waiting for?"

"Aye, Aye, captain," the crew responded, saluting in unison.

I see nothing, the grillman responded.

I hear nothing, one of the poachers chimed in.*

I speak nothing, Rosilee blurted.**

Matthew watched the boss' stoic expression settled on him as if singling him out. Grudgingly, he shook his head, then turned to finish plating the salads.

Stanley made a deliberate and concentrated perusal of the staff. "Listen up, folks. I've allotted ten portions of fish for tonight's special guests. The other thirty for regular menu. No waste allowed. If so, next week's paychecks will reflect your carelessness."

Ten minutes later, dinner was served.

Another uneventful night came to a close in the kitchen at Fresh Cajun Seafood Boutique.

The next morning, the staff clapped, surprised at seeing Mateo walk through the kitchen door.

"You do realize this is no longer your workplace," Stanley's snide remark missed its mark.

"I decided to return. This restaurant is worth fighting for." He smiled, then turned and held open the door.

Two men strode in.

Matthew proceeded to create enough space on the general prep table and wipe it clean. The well-dressed older man with a studded Stetson hat, meticulously laid out papers then placed matching envelopes with names scribbled on the front atop each.

"Effective immediately, changes long overdue. Mateo will be the boss-in-training. The rest of you step forward and receive your last paycheck...except Matthew."

Those receiving pink slips glared at Matthew. "But he was complicit too," the grillman hissed.

"My grandson, Matthew, will be in charge of recruitment and compliance."

Stunned, Rosilee blurted out tearfully, "feels like the final scene of an episode I watched called Undercover Boss," then became frigid as she remembered her monthly rent increase and unemployed spouse.

Stanley bristled as his brows carved a deep, angry path, then stared into the old man's face. "Who are you and what's the meaning of this nonsense?"

The older man quietly walked up to Stanley and personally delivered his termination papers.

"Obviously, you've forgotten that this is not your kitchen. It's my kitchen, my restaurant, and my family business."

Shocked as the meaning of that statement dawned on him, he closed his mouth and stepped back.

The owner of the restaurant franchise continued.

"First, we all have to follow rules. Instead of allowing for mishaps, you use intimidation. Second, your unsanitary food practices put my restaurant and business at risk for liability. Third, you and your brand of leadership isn't welcome in any of my franchise businesses. Matter of fact, it shouldn't be welcome in this industry. File a complaint if you dare. The only ones you'll be bossing are your cellmates in the state jail."

The owner turned and shook hands with Mateo and Matthew. "Welcome aboard, gentlemen. I applaud your honesty and integrity. You have my full and complete cooperation."

Concluding the matter, before leaving, he addressed those still looking slightly confused and possibly unsure of what just happened.

"Now, I suggest those of you with envelopes remove yourselves from the premises and never return."