Gemotions

The headline screamed at him: "A Culinary Catastrophe." Chef Jackson felt his gut twist. He hated the critic's patronizing tone, the way she'd picked apart his every creation. He chucked the newspaper across the room, it hitting the wall with a dull thud.

He stormed through the kitchen, a whirlwind of frustrated energy. He slammed open the fridge, then the freezer, then slammed them shut again. He grabbed a cleaver and began hacking at a pile of vegetables with excessive force, each chop a furious punctuation mark.

The staff, accustomed to his usual calm demeanor, wisely scattered. He didn't care. All he wanted to do was obliterate something. The review had stripped him bare.