They pushed their way through the crowd to get to the kitchen, where Lylia's head chef, a young man named Peter who was very nervous, was stirring a giant pot of stew. He looked up when they came in and seemed to relax right away.

"Miss Lylia! Thank you for being here!"

"I don't know what to do because everyone is asking for quality checks!"

"It's fine, Peter," Lylia said, but her face showed that it wasn't. "We have a way out. Greg made me a tool for quality assurance."

When she held up The Critic's Spoon, Peter's face went from relieved to confused to horrified in less than two seconds. "Huh...?"

"Is that spoon shining?" he asked.

"Yes," Lylia said.

"Why is it shining?"

"Because Greg made it, and everything Greg makes has that strange glow in it."

Greg said, "I don't like that description," but he couldn't really argue with it.

Lylia put The Critic's Spoon in Peter's stew and held it up. Everyone in the kitchen stopped talking and waited for the decision. Even the customers who were crowded around the kitchen door stopped arguing to hear.

The spoon took its time, and Greg was sure it was enjoying the attention. Finally, it spoke, and everyone in the restaurant could hear it.

"Six and a half out of ten. I assume that this person works in a kitchen and doesn't have a lot of experience, but they did a good job."

"The seasoning is excellent, but not very interesting. The vegetables are cooked just right so that they are soft. But I can tell that you don't have enough faith in the salt content."

"You were afraid of putting too much salt on it, so you didn't put enough on it. Furthermore, the meat has been simmering for about four minutes too long, which has made the texture aggressively adequate!"

Peter looked like he was going to cry. The restaurant went crazy hearing the Spoon's critics.

Some people nodded in agreement, pleased with the in-depth analysis. Some people looked frustrated for Peter.

Some people were laughing so hard that they almost fell out of their chairs. Harold's wife was writing things down.

Marina whispered to Greg, "This is wonderful."

"This is the best thing you've ever made."

Greg hissed back, "It's going to start a restaurant riot."

"Even better!"

The Critic's Spoon, now that it had some attention, kept judging. "If I may offer constructive criticism, I can do so because I am a superior being made of silver and judgment."

"You should consider increasing your salt content by approximately twelve percent and reducing your cooking time by two hundred and forty seconds."

"Your stirring technique is good, but you could use more confidence. Young man, you need to stir like you mean it and commit to the motion!"

"Did the spoon just teach him how to cook?" Bork was thrilled to hear this.

"Yes," Seraphine said, angrily writing down what she heard. "And I'm writing everything down for my research."

One of the customers, a rich-looking woman Greg didn't know, pushed ahead. "I want this spoon to check my food!"

"I spent a lot of money on this stew, so I have a right to know if it meets standards."

Lylia said, "Oh dear gods... this is going to end badly."

But the woman was already holding out her bowl, and the people in the crowd were agreeing with her. They wanted ratings to make sure of it, and they wanted The Critic's Spoon to taste their food.

Lylia sighed and dipped the spoon into the woman's stew because she knew it was a lost cause. "Get ready," she said.

The Critic's Spoon said, "Five out of ten. This stew has been sitting for about seventeen minutes, and in that time it has lost a lot of heat and flavor."

"The vegetables are mushy, the broth is starting to separate, and the whole thing is just disappointing. If you wanted excellent food, you should have eaten it when it was fresh instead of letting it languish while you complained about service speed."

The woman's face changed colors several times. "How could you! You should know that I write about food for the Eldoria Gazette!"

The spoon said, "You should know better than to let food sit."

"Your credentials don't fucking matter to me, ma'am. I judge only the food itself, and this food is mediocre at best."

Marina was laughing so hard that she couldn't breathe. She was crying and leaning on Greg for support.

She was making sounds that might have been words, but most of the time they were just wheezing. Other customers joined in, some laughing at the absurdity of cutlery roasting her, while others still looked offended.

The woman proclaimed, "I want my money back!"

"I want a fresh bowl!" someone else shouted.

"I want that spoon to rate my cooking at home!" a third person yelled.

The restaurant descended into chaos. People were demanding ratings, returning food, placing new orders, and generally creating the kind of scene that would probably end up in local gossip for weeks.

Lylia's staff looked like they were having a tough time, but they also looked a little amused. Peter had gotten over his earlier sadness enough to start cooking with more confidence, as the spoon had suggested.

In the middle of all this, Felix appeared carrying what looked like a meat pie from one of the street vendors. It seems like he had made up his mind to eat lunch while everyone else was dealing with the restaurant mess.

"What'd I miss?" he asked, taking a bite of his pie.

Marina, still laughing, was able to point at the spoon. Felix looked at it, then at Lylia, and back at the spoon. "Is that thing glowing?"

"Yes," several people said in unison.

"Okay. Hey, spoon, what do you think of this pie?"

He held it out, and before anyone could stop her, Lylia dipped The Critic's Spoon into it. There was a moment of silence, and then the spoon spoke in a voice that could only be described as absolutely disgusted.

"NEGATIVE TWO OUT OF TEN. I DID NOT KNOW IT WAS POSSIBLE TO ACHIEVE NEGATIVE SCORES, BUT YOU HAVE MANAGED IT THROUGH SHEER DEDICATION TO MEDIOCRITY!!!"

"UNFUCKING BELIEVABLE! THIS IS NOT FOOD, BUT A DISGRACE TO ALL LIVING BEINGS. THIS IS A WAR CRIME DISGUISED AS PASTRY. THE CRUST HAS THE TEXTURE OF LEATHER THAT HAS BEEN LEFT IN THE SUN FOR THREE WEEKS!!!

"THE MEAT FILLING IS OF QUESTIONABLE ORIGIN AND EVEN MORE QUESTIONABLE SAFETY. I CAN TASTE REGRET, POOR HYGIENE STANDARDS, AND WHAT I BELIEVE MIGHT BE ACTUAL SADNESS!!!"

"IF FOOD COULD WEEP, THIS PIE WOULD BE SOBBING. THROW IT AWAY IMMEDIATELY AND APOLOGIZE TO YOUR TASTE BUDS RIGHT NOW, YOU FUCKING DONKEY!!!"

"What am I the one getting roasted!?"

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