Litefoot's Roast Chicken

A whole roast chicken sits on a platter between Litefoot and Leela, its golden-brown skin crisp but undistinguished. Litefoot fusses over utensils for this meal, never quite touching the meat, while Leela cleans her knife on the joint between bites. The bird’s presence is a forced prop in his attempt at hospitality, its domestic ordinariness clashing with the tension sharpening the air.