Chapter 2

Somewhere en route to Port Vila in the New Hebrides, for my last meal I serve dinner the way I’ve always dreamed.

Anybody caught buttering their bread before breaking it, I promise to shoot them.
Anybody who drinks their beverage with food still in their mouth will also be shot.
Anybody caught spooning toward themself will be shot.
Anybody caught without a napkin in their lap—
Anybody caught using their fingers to move their food—
Anybody who begins eating before everybody is served—
Anybody who blows on food to cool it—
Anybody who talks with food in their mouth—
Anybody who drinks white wine holding their glass by the bowl or drinks red wine holding their glass by the stem—
You will each of you get a bullet in the head.
We are 30,000 feet above the earth, going 455 miles per hour. We’re at a pinnacle of human achievement, and we are going to eat this meal as civilized human beings.