The Chef’s Hat Parrot

The village square baked under the white-hot glare of the midday sun. The cracked earth radiated heat back at the sweaty faces of the crowd. *Hiss.* Kian stood at the center of the stage, both hands white-knuckled as he pinned a towering white toque to his head. The hat bucked and thrashed like a wild animal trying to escape a cage. 'Stay still... please, just stay still... not now!' — Squawk! It’s tight as a coffin in here, and your hair smells like rotten eggs! Kian jammed his palm against the fabric, his fingers trembling as he tried to muffle the screech. *Creak.* Mayor Thea loomed behind the massive brass podium. She adjusted her spectacles, the glass glinting with a lethal, icy chill that caught the blinding sun. The village was dead silent; even the wind had given up on blowing. A hundred pairs of eyes were fixed on the empty clay bowl sitting in front of Kian. “Ten minutes, Kian. Only ten.” Thea’s voice sliced through the heat like a serrated blade. “Show us your father’s legacy, or leave the kitchen forever and get out of this village.” *Poof!* Kian dumped the entire bag of flour into the bowl in one panicked motion. A thick, white cloud exploded, coatin…