tuilles with accents of asiago cheese and white truffle oil-then work our way through a series of ceviche presentations, a trio of tapenades, some basic meeze, ortolans, potages à la saison, a crown roast of New Zealand lamb, a classic Peking duck, filet de boeuf á l’absinthe, venison on a bed of lilac blossoms, trout á la mode de Gertrude Stein, and finally a complete Kyoto-style kaiseki ryori experience. Then for dessert, we-”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Emily June strode forward and slapped her hand down on the gleaming kitchen counter. “You could have this ladle-wielding death machine cook stuff like that from now until doomsday and it won’t demonstrate why it’s a menace to life, limb and-”

“Ms. Newcomb, did you know we’re broadcasting this live?” Marjorie said quietly. “Because I really don’t think that the good people at Mequizeen can let their fine product be slandered like this without taking legal action.” Joss gave her a discreet look of approval.

Emily’s cheeks blazed. “You can’t slander a machine.”

“But you can be slandered by one?” Marjorie lifted one eyebrow. “You did mention ‘hate speech’ among the other charges you’ve lodged against the Carème 6000. I’m sure it made perfect sense to you, but I’m afraid I don’t quite follow your line of-” She coughed for sarcastic effect. “-reasoning.”

Emily glowered at Marjorie, then shoved her unceremoniously away from the control panel. The enraged Newcomb heiress pushed her father nose-to-speaker with the machine, and commanded, “Tell it to make something you usually have for lunch, Daddy! Something you like. Show these people what we go through every time we want to get a simple bite to eat in this house!”

All eyes and all lenses were on Boone Newcomb. He sucked on his lower lip for a moment, then took a deep breath and addressed the Carème 6000 in a strong, clear voice: “Boone Newcomb here.”