“Where is it?

The cabinet door shuddered against the cook’s back. He grunted with each forceful slam. Cans thudded against the wall as the animal raged.

“If it escapes, we’re all dead,” I said, knowing it didn’t need to be said.

Melvin pointed. “Toss me that.”

He caught it easily and slid the rolling pin through the cabinet’s handles. The cook stepped back as it slammed again. The pin held.

“What now?” I asked.

Blue feathers peeked out between the doors as the beast thrashed.

“Now? I make the marinade.”

He turned to his spices. “You catch the other one.”

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