Gemotions

He saw the commercial during a late-night show. Old Man Hemmings, grinning like a fool, holding up a jar of "Grandma Bess's Secret Chutney." It was *his* chutney, the recipe passed down from his grandmother, meticulously tweaked and honed over decades. A recipe he'd sold to Hemmings, who'd promised to keep his name out of it.

A knot formed in Arthur’s stomach. He slammed the remote against the coffee table. He knew where Hemmings’ farm was. He knew the route. He had a sudden, urgent need to purchase every last jar of that chutney. He'd find a way to dispose of it, preferably in a very, very public place.