If there’s anything middle class Americans love more than Christian youth groups, it’s Japanese steakhouses. You’re probably familiar with them if you know anyone named Emily who had a birthday recently. Hibachi dinners are famous for their excitement and vaguely unnerving racial dynamic, but would be nowhere today without the heavy lifting done by the illustrious Onion Volcano.
Earlier this week, guests gathered around a table at Nagoya Steakhouse to enjoy happy hour drink specials and make nervous eye contact with the strangers seated near them. Among these guests was Alan Russo, a recently divorced taxidermist who came out at the behest of his loud friend David. When the chef began gesturing to the guests with a bottle full of sake, Alan opened his mouth wide for a squirt. When the chef stopped squeezing the bottle, Alan yelled, “MORE!” and pounded his hand on the table. “My wife left me today! Fuck me up, dinnerman!” After another short and hesitant squirt, Alan grabbed the squeeze bottle from his hand and downed the whole thing.
Russo reportedly began crying as soon as he saw the chef scrape the rice into a heart. “Too bad my fucking WIFE doesn’t have one of those,” exclaimed the newly single Alan as he threw his wedding band into the chef’s hat. One side of the table applauded each other for all catching the shrimp in their mouth, to which Alan replied, “It’s so good to see a family get along — even if it won’t last long. Any of you know a good lawyer?”
An electric feeling came over the dinner table as the chef began stacking onions on the grill. Alan saw this and said, “Oh cool, a little volcano just like the one I proposed to my wife on. I can’t wait to see this crumble in front of me too,” before falling into a harrowing weep. The other guests were silent as the chef poured oil into the onions and Alan told the story of his proposal in Hawaii. “Her hair caught the sun and looked like fire — and I knew at that moment how Prometheus felt when he defied the gods.” The chef then lit the volcano and flames shot out of the top and shone in Alan’s wet wet eyes. One guest cheered, but the others averted their eyes as Alan poured Yum Yum sauce in his shirt pocket and feebly whimpered, “I used to have everything. Now I have nothing but this sauce.” After the lackluster volcano, everyone quietly enjoyed their food except Alan, who hadn’t ordered anything but a pitcher of long island iced tea.