“Here’s your soup, sir.”

“Hmm… wait a second. That’s not what I ordered.”

“Oh?”

“Why is there Third Reich regalia decorating the bowl and a swastika in the middle.”

“What did you order?”

“The Gestapo soup.”

“This *is* the Gestapo soup, sir.”

“I see steam rising from it. Isn’t it supposed to be served cold?”

“Sir is mistaken. *Gazpacho* soup is served cold. Gestapo soup is served hot.”

“Ah, yeah. That’s what I meant to order. Gazpacho soup! Please take this back to the kitchen and give me some Gazpacho soup!”

“I cannot do this, sir.”

“Why?”

“Once ordered, the Gestapo soup must be consumed by the person who ordered it.”

“But… I’m smelling it now, and this soup stinks! It probably tastes awful, too.”

“That’s Gestapo soup for you.”

“I won’t eat it.”

“Eating it *is* mandatory, and you must eat it with a smile because your enjoyment of it is also mandatory.”

“Wait a second! What’s this?”

“What’s what?”

“This, here!”

“Oh… hmm… it looks like an antifascist fell into your soup.”

“Well, well. Take it back to the kitchen, and bring me my soup!”

“As you wish, sir”

[A little later.]

“Here’s your soup, sir, with apologies from the kitchen staff.”

“That’s not my soup.”

“Yes, Gestapo soup, as you ordered.”

“But I wanted Gazpacho.”

“As I said, earlier, sir, once ordered, Gestapo soup must be consumed by the person who ordered it.”

“I won’t eat it!”

“Well… we’ll have to force-feed it to you. Bob! We have a recalcitrant customer here! Now, please smile! Remember that enjoyment of the Gestapo soup is mandatory.”

“Please hold on!”

“Once you’re done with the soup, you can have your dessert. I see you ordered pain au chocolat. Judging by the screams coming out of the kitchen, your chocolate pain is being prepared right now.”

“Now…”

“Ah, Bob! Let’s get down to business…”

#TheDailyIsotope #AutisticWriters #microfiction #Gestapo #gazpacho