The golden afternoon light filters through the skylights of the Hors d’Oeuvre Museum, glinting off polished marble floors. Curator Emmental Cheese stands motionless before an abstract canvas, swirling of saffron, olive, and deep paprika dancing across linen. A single tear, glistening like melted butter, rolls down their cheek.

The Curator sniffles delicately, dabbing their eye with a lace handkerchief. "Ah… such composition… such balance… It speaks to the soul like a perfectly aged gouda speaks to the palate!"

They take a wobbly step back, limbs trembling slightly. The beret on their head tilts precariously as they gesture dramatically with a stubby arm.

"Observe—the texture! Not unlike the delicate perforations of my own being… but transcendent! It’s as if the artist understood… understood… the sorrow of being both food and art!"