Chapter 26 Official Food Tester

As the goblin settled himself on the chair, I watched as he attempted to mimic a sense of refinement, placing his plate of food before him with an air of imagined elegance. He even took a tissue and, with exaggerated care, tucked it under his shirt collar, as though he were some high-class aristocrat preparing for a feast.

"Oh, yes, yes, we must dine like civilized beings, mustn't we?" the goblin said in an absurd tone, his beady eyes glinting with mischief.

He proceeded to arrange the dining tools by the plate with a flourish as if conducting some grand orchestral performance. And then, with a sudden and violent shift in demeanor, he lunged towards the food, his hands clawing at it like a ravenous beast that had been deprived of food for eternity.

"Ahhh, scrumptious delicacies! Must eat like true goblin royalty! Grr, yum yum!" he grunted, his voice devolving into a series of nonsensical growls and grunts.

My eyes widened in disbelief as I beheld the goblin feast before me. The sheer absurdity of it all left me dumbfounded, and even my fork couldn't withstand the shock, leaping out of my hand as if to escape the madness.

Bits of food flew about like confetti in a chaotic frenzy as he shoveled the food into his mouth, exhibiting a hideous display of gluttony. It was a spectacle of sheer grotesqueness and a display of manners that could put pigs to shame, a symphony of slobbery sloppiness and utter lack of table etiquette.

"Goblin hungry! Must feast! Gobble gobble!" he declared with his mouth full, bits of food spewing in all directions.

As I observed the goblin devour his breakfast with alarming speed, I couldn't help but gawk in disbelief. It was like watching a tornado of food swirling into his gaping maw, disappearing in mere seconds. The sheer lack of manners left me dumbfounded, and as he let out a thunderous burp, the whole room seemed to shake.

"Ahhhh, tasty! Glorious eats!"

He then plopped himself onto the chair, his limbs seemingly disconnected from his brain as he slouched with reckless abandon. His drooping ears added to his comically clueless appearance, and I had to resist the urge to facepalm at the sight.

"Belly, you're my best friend! So full, so happy! Goblin happy, goblin likes food!"

He began rubbing and patting his bulging belly as if it were a beloved friend, whispering sweet nothings to it as if it were a lost love. It was a surreal scene, and I couldn't help but shake my head in disbelief.

 "Um, excuse me, Mr. Goblin?" I asked sarcastically. 

"Hmm?" The goblin mumbled.

"I was just wondering, do you always eat like that? It's... quite impressive, I must say."

"Of course! I'm a goblin, and we goblins eat with eagerness and delight! No time for dainty nibbles or chewing, just shoving food down our throats! We don't wait for food to run away from us, we eat fast!"

"I can see that. But isn't it uncomfortable to eat so much so quickly?"

"Master. Food is meant to be devoured, not savored! Life's too short to waste time chewing!" The goblin proclaimed proudly.

A mixture of amusement and disbelief washed over me.

 "Is that so?" I replied, trying to wrap my head around the goblin's unique philosophy on culinary indulgence.

"Say, you got me wondering, how long exactly do goblins live?" I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.

The goblin blinked, a vacant expression crossing his face as if his brain froze for a moment before he answered, "Oh, umm, I don't really know, Master. I think we live until we stop living, you know? We goblins are pretty sturdy, I guess! But in breeding farms life was short, here in Luminecia life is long and happy! Yes, it is! Mmmm... so happy."

I chuckled at the goblin's simple and surprisingly profound answer. Evidently, intellect wasn't his strong suit, but his innocent charm made him endearing in his own peculiar way.

"So, what else do you do around here, Mr. Goblin?" I asked, attempting to keep the conversation going.

The goblin beamed as if he had been waiting for someone to ask him about his daily routine.

 "Oh, well, Master, I'm the official food tester as well! I taste all the food before anyone else to make sure it's not poisoned. It's an essential job, you know. Safety first! Very important and I take my job very seriously. No poison gets past me, no sir!" He declared proudly, puffing his chest out even further.

I raised an eyebrow, trying to process the absurdity of the situation.

 "You mean to tell me that they actually use you to taste-test potentially poisonous food?" I asked unbelievingly.

"Oh, yes, Master! Safety first, you see!" the goblin chirped, his voice high-pitched and squeaky. 

"But, uh, don't worry, Master! We, goblins, are resistant to any poison, they say. I've been doing this job for a... time that is long, and I've never been sick... well, not too sick anyway, ghe ghe ghe!" He added with a nervous chuckle.

"Are you sure it's safe? I mean, aren't you worried about getting poisoned?" I asked, genuinely concerned for the goblin's well-being.

The goblin laughed heartily, slapping his belly with his little hand.

 "Oh, Master, you're too kind! Don't you worry! I've been eating poisonous mushrooms every day since I hatched from my egg. I was forced to live in the dreadful forest for as long as I'm alive, scavenging for useful things to bring back to breeding farms and I've never had a problem. My taste buds are like little poison finders, always on the lookout! Nothing can get past me!"

"Master, you should try my favorite dish! It's a roasted woozy mushroom stew, simply divine! I've tasted it a thousand times, and it's always perfect! Makes me travel to a happy place!" The goblin insisted, his meaty ears twitching with excitement as he rambled on about his culinary adventures.

I chuckled, amused by the goblin's unwavering passion for his favorite dish.

 "Well, perhaps I'll give it a try later, Goblinworth. For now, let's focus on our day's adventure," I suggested, trying to steer the conversation away from the mouthwatering temptation of the stew.

"Oh, I've got plenty of plans for us, my esteemed Master!" Goblinworth yelled, his voice high-pitched and brimming with enthusiasm. 

"First, we'll go to the bustling market, filled to the brim with exotic goodies and enchanting trinkets. Oh, you'll be amazed at the sights and sounds that will tickle your senses!"

My patience wavered slightly, but I decided to indulge the excitable goblin.

 "Alright, sounds interesting. What else have you got in store for us, Goblinworth?"

"Oh, Master Kazuki! We'll also pay a visit to the mystical fountain of shimmering dreams! They say that gazing into its waters reveals secrets of the realm and grants wish to those with the purest hearts! You must make a wish, Master Kazuki! You must!" The goblin urged, bouncing on his toes.

"I'll keep that in mind, Goblinworth," I said with a smile, humored by the goblin's endearing naivety.

As we set off on our exploration, Goblinworth became the animated narrator of our journey. He pointed out every landmark and quirky attraction with such enthusiasm that it felt like we were embarking on a grand odyssey.

As we strolled through the town square, Goblinworth paused by a statue. He cleared his throat with a sound akin to a wild turkey choking on a kazoo.

 "Behold, Master Kazuki, the monument of Master Helen, the grand ruler of Luminecia! Oh, the tales that surround this figure are wondrous."

"Well then, do share these tales, Goblinworth."

With an enthusiasm that rivaled a toddler's sugar rush, Goblinworth launched into his absurd tales. 

"You see, they say that Master Helen once tamed a wild, ferocious squirrel using nothing but a bag of acorns and a stern glare! The squirrel, they say, went on to become the town's official accountant, and it's been balancing budgets and nibbling on ledgers ever since!"

I couldn't help but suppress a laugh at the sheer absurdity of the tale. 

"An impressive feat indeed," I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

But Goblinworth wasn't done yet. He gestured dramatically towards the statue, his eyes wide with an exaggerated sense of awe. 

"And there, just behind that statue, it is said that Master Helen once battled a flock of rogue pigeons with a sword fashioned from a spatula! The pigeons, defeated and humbled, then swore eternal loyalty and became her personal couriers!"

My disbelief reached new heights as I struggled to maintain a straight face. 

"Couriers, you say?"

Goblinworth nodded vigorously, his glee undeterred by my skepticism.

 "Oh, indeed! They carried messages far and wide, and rumor has it that their coos could be heard in even the most distant corners of the realm!"

With a deep sigh, he continued, "Oh... Master Helen, she so elegant, so good looker, so..."

As if on cue, Goblinworth's words tapered off into an eerie silence. His gaze fixated on the statue before us, but his expression was far from ordinary. His face seemed to contort in a grotesque display of happiness as if he had just stumbled upon a mountain of gold coins or an all-you-can-eat buffet of slimy creatures. His eyes took on a glassy, half-lidded look, and his mouth hung open, revealing a tongue that was practically dragging on the ground.

He clutched his chunky ears, squeezing them against his chest with the intensity of someone who had just discovered the meaning of life. His actions were matched only by the sound of his own drool plopping onto the cobblestones below.