[ WP ] After years of culinary training you are able to curb anyone 's hunger all the way until dinner with just one meal in place of breakfast and lunch . You are One Brunch Man .

The customer entered the small food tent on the street corner. Medium height, fairly overweight build, just into the first 3rd of his life. Typical office worker on his way to another meeting, or maybe hung over from an extended networking session the night before. Did that explain the dark glasses? Saitama could n't decide. 
 
 The customer sat down, coat folded over his left arm, and stared expectantly at the counter. Saitama's boss, Owen, came forward. 
 
 `` Hello sir, how are you today'' A greeting, expected by all customers 
 
 `` Hello'' said the customer `` I understand you do a very good brunch here.'' A common question at this food tent. 
 
 `` Why yes, we have a large assortment of food from all over the world available. Would you like to see our pad thai or ramen menu? Maybe some gnocchi and meatballs? We just got some beautiful smoked salmon for eggs-'' 
 
 `` Maybe I should be more direct'' the customer said, holding Owen's gaze `` I have been told you do a brunch here. In fact, I here you do THE brunch here.'' 
 
 `` W-w-well we have many brunch options for your-'' 
 
 `` Let me make this clear! I am no ordinary customer. I am the 8-star-writing-assoication-rated-Danish-food critic Esbjen `` Black Hole'' Drassingberg and I have been rating the world's greatest restaurants for over 20 years.'' 
 
 `` I have over 300 reviews of 5 star restaurants'' Esbjen continued. `` I have dined in the great hotels and casinos of the world. I have eaten with gods and drunk with devils. I have crossed the great oceans of the world. I have traversed it's most barren wastes. I am not just ANY food writer, I am THE food writer.'' 
 
 `` But you look nothing like a Danish person'' Owen said. `` Where are your blue eyes and bulging muscles?'' 
 
 `` Oh, they're here *stodder*, they're here.'' 
 
 With a dramatic yell, Esbjen tore off his nicely tailored suit with a series of flexes. Exposing his developed musculature. 
 
 `` And what do you think a Danish food critic with such massive sex appeal and gustatory knowledge as myself does when he is in a backwards country like yours mid transit for a day or two?'' 
 
 `` They visit the beach and the local shops?'' 
 
 `` THEY GET DRUNK ENOUGH TO DRINK WITH ODIN IN VALHALLA THAT NIGHT.'' Said Esbjen. 
 
 `` Now,' said Esbjen. `` I have heard that your little, shitty, grimy, and completely empty at 10:24am shop makes, without question, the best brunch in the world.'' 
 
 Esbjen's sunglasses snapped as he flexed his eyebrows. 
 
 `` I do n't believe it, I refuse to believe it. No one shop can have such a bold claim. It is impossible. The variety of food from across the world can not be collected in one place. Plus to be a true brunch, it must have the alcohol absorption of a pile of grease and the nutritional value of a fresh vegetable and legume quiche. This, is the true character of the meal we call brunch. Hence I am here to review your shop, and I'm letting you know so you have the best chance of not being torn to shreds in my latest travel guide.'' 
 
 `` So'' Said Esbjen, finally sitting down. `` Impress me.'' 
 
 `` Well then'' said Saitama. 
 
 Esbjen turned to face the slightly-built chef. 
 
 `` You want to try *the brunch*, do you?'' 
 
 Esbjen sneered. `` Why yes, yes I do.'' 
 
 `` One brunch, coming up'' said Saitama. 
 
 `` $ 17'' said Owen. 
 
 Esbjen paid, and started taking notes at his milkcrate table and chair. 
 
 After a short while Saitama brought out a large white plate. 
 
 Esbjen appraised it. 
 
 `` Plain flat egg noodles with a ginger and lemon sauce. Small pieces of fried eggplant, sweet potato, broccoli, and bacon. Over two large slices of thick french toast with hash browns. Pifft'' Esbjen scoffed. `` What is this peasants meal you have served me?'' 
 
 Saitama did n't say a word, but returned with a small bowl of tomato soup with small dumplings in it. 
 
 `` Enjoy your meal.'' 
 
 Esbjen tasted his first mouthful of the noodle dish. 
 
 `` Wait a moment'' he thought `` THAT'S NOT AN ORDINARY PLATE OF NOODLES! The noodles are....LIGHTLY FRIED? And.....MOROCCAN FLAVORED?'' 
 
 He took a second mouthful, this time with some toast. 
 
 `` The bread'' his eyes widened. `` It's, it's PERFECT. LIKE GOLDEN HEAVEN IN-BETWEEN TWO CRUSTS!'' 
 
 A third followed. His hangover started to actively feel better. 
 
 Suddenly Esbjen felt a ravenous desire to consume the noodles. He started gulping down the contents of the plate. Pausing only once to start drinking the soup with the dumplings. 
 
 `` EACH GULP IS LIKE THE ORGASMIC SQUIRT OF A MAIDEN IN ECSTASY. THE RICHNESS OF THESE SWEET TOMATOES OVERWHELMS MY SOUL. AND THE LAMB DUMPLINGS TASTE LIKE FULFILLMENT IN A PASTRY. LIKE A DONER KEBAB IN MINIATURE FORM.'' 
 
 Esbjen came to the end of his food. `` WWWWHAT? HOWWW? WHERE DID IT GO? DID, Did, did I get carried away and forget to write anything?'' 
 
 Esbjen felt a sudden onset of sleep. 
 
 `` What, but it was n't big of a meal... was n't it? Wait, I caaannt-yawn-I caan n't go out liiiike-yawn-this. I drank that bis... ness..man.....out.......his..........paan-'' 
 
 Esbjen fell face down on the table. Breaking both the top crate and the plate and bowl on top of it. 
 
 Owen breathed a sigh of relief. `` Well, that's over. At least this bastard paid before he ate this time.'' 
 
 Owen walked over to collect the plate. 
 
 `` Oh for fuck's sake Saitama! Can you stop using the nice china for these stupid meals. They cost $ 8 a piece. *Eight-fucking-dollars* cunt. Go to the store on your lunch break at 3 and get a replacement for each. And rack me another milk crate while you're at it. Stupid'one-brunch' man...'' 
 
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 Feedback welcome. First ever submission
