Hmm ... they say there are two people in this world you don't want to anger: the person working on your car, and the person fixing your food. I'm strongly reconsidering coming tonight. I can see myself sitting down at the table. Chef Hartzer comes strolling up, and smacks me on my back so hard that my teeth rattle. "Donnie Rrrrrocks! Welcome back to Shitronelle, my friend. I heard you've been posting on eGullet," he says, grinning like a satanic pirate. "Hi Michael." "I'm going to send a course out to you, compliments of the house. It's an oyster shooter. Ever had it?" "Umm ... yes, once ... a long time ago ..." "I'm going to make it myself ... just for you. I need to head back to the kitchen now, but I'll send it right out." As he starts to walk away, he turns and looks back with a strange red gleam in his eye. "Oh by the way ... are you sure you didn't mean ... Spitronelle? Enjoy your meal, Rocks." Yeah, you get the picture