La fourchette d'argent is a small restaurant in Paris.
One of the best small restaurants, with an excellent reputation and a lot of positive word of mouth, but a small restaurant still.
Which suited perfectly Henri Sorel, the master of the place, as he wasn't interested in the stress and insane logistics of the highly known, luxurious restaurants.
And also helped hiding the secret that befell him recently.
"Bock?" he asked, as he stood in the not-open-yet main room. "Are you done preparing the opening soups?"
A chef stopped in the door to the kitchen and signaled they were heating up.
It was a good thing the restaurant was closed.
For the customers would have seen with stupor what was clearly a humanoid blob.
"Good," said Henri. "Keep an eye on them, I'm coming."
The creature nodded and went back to the kitchen.

Henri lost himself in his thoughts. To think it had been already two months ago...
Two months that, when he closed the restaurant for renovations and went back next day for inspection and emptying the supplies, he found a strange, blue, gooey thing using the stoves.
The chef had seen horror movies like The Blob, and thus was pretty damn scared.
Grabbing an extinguisher, he managed to repel the thing and lock it in the cold chamber.
He was now stuck in a damn conundrum. What was he supposed to do? Ask for help? To who?
The whistling of the pressure cooker used by the creature interrupted his thoughts, and he warily went to stop and open it.
At his surprise, he saw in it what looked like a decent beef stew.
It looked good, it smelled good...
And daring to taste it, found out it actually tasted good too.
A slam made him jump. The blob was slamming the reinforced window of the cold chamber's room.
And even though it had no face, eyes or anything humanly looking, he couldn't help but feel that it was glaring at him, like it was saying "That's my lunch!"
"You cooked it?" asked without thinking Henri.
The thing managed to convey a positive answer through its gestures.
Sorel suddenly remembered that for already three months, he noticed that some supplies disappeared, or that some pans or plates weren't at their ordinary places.
"You... You've been using the restaurant behind my back all this time?!"
Again, the creature conveyed a positive answer.
Completely flabbergasted, Sorel acted without thinking and made what was indisputably the dumbest decision of his life.
He opened the cold chamber.
"Prove it," he said, pointing his extinguisher at the blue goo. "Cook something."
The thing began stretching and squeezing unnaturally, grabbing pans and ingredients, and began preparing a salmon with Normandy sauce.
Henri was astonished. The creature was moving and acting in a way that showed inexperience, but potential. And more incredibly, it visibly had passion. It loved cooking, not just to have something to eat, but for the noble art itself.
This motivated him in going futher in his dumbest decision: to try and teach the blob in the noble art, see if it was just some instinct or simulating, or if this passion was absolutely sincere.

The two months that passed proved that it was sincere. The being eagerly lapped up everything the experimented chef could teach him, and was an excellent learner.
And as time passed, it began changing.
The shapeless mass of ooze slowly adopted a humanoid form, short and chubby.
It's litterally empty face developed big, blue eyes and a serrated but kind mouth.
And when it - no, he - found and began wearing chef clothes, Henri felt fully at ease, and decided to take him completely under his wings, baptizing him "Bock" in reference to Paul Bocuse.
But the progression had limits. Bock, in spite of his efforts, couldn't speak, and seemed to hold no memory of before the restaurant, or of the source of his passion.
They'd have to live with it, for now.
When the renovations were over and the time to reopen La fourchette d'argent came, Henri had to reveal Bock to the other chefs at his employ.
The shock was strong, but once passed, and once the blob proved his worth, he actually was genuinely accepted, becoming their secret to all.

Henri came out of his remembrance, and went to the kitchen, where he looked at the chefs doing their job proudly and efficiently.
And at Bock, doing the same.
He chuckled. That had been the dumbest decision of his life.
And the best.

Art by  buckdasystem
Color by  croconut /  tonytamales
Colored original here: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/60040759/
Bock © me