Twirl of a Whisk, Flash of a Knife. Precision at It's Finest (Amaya)

Volgana slammed his hand down upon the small black box that was letting out a light ring. He could hear the first few calls of the birds outside his room and decided it was time to get up. Letting out a small groan, he shifted his blanket off his body and slowly stood. He stretched slowly before making his way over to a small fridge at the corner of his room. He opened the door and grabbed a small bag of coffee from the back. While it brewed in a small pot, he jumped into a quick shower. When he walked out of the bathroom, the clock read 6:32. He poured a cup, letting the scalding liquid cool before he took a small sip. The deep robust flavor of the coffee filled his mouth, awakening his senses fully. He walked over to his computer while taking another sip and turned on the monitor. He opened his messages and saw that another shipment was arriving to his kitchen at 7.

He opened his small note book and checked the date. He saw that he had a session with an academy student at 8. He couldn't remeber the exact reason at first but it finally dawned on him. He pulled up her information on his computer and gazed at her image for a few minutes before getting dressed and finishing his coffee. He ironed his coat slowly while looking over her profile for a few more minutes, stopping when his coat was free of wrinkles. He slipped on his coat that closely resembled a chefs coat with black fabric and a emerald trim. His dark glasses rested upon his head as he walked out the door, locking it behind him. He reached the back door of his kitchen to find a man already at his back door. A line of coolers and boxes, neatly stacked into rows awaited his inspection. He looked over every inch of product, even opening the gill plates of the fish to check for color and smell.

Once he was pleased, only arguing slightly about some bruised bananas, he signed his name and wrote a check from his personal account. As the truck pulled off Volgana unlocked the back door with a small silver key he kept on a leather cord around his neck. He opened the back door and loaded his fresh produce upon a small cart and wheeled it inside. He turned to close the door behind him and flick on the lights. About a dozen halogen lights flicked into a high pitched buzz, followed by a slight hum as they finished warming up. He continued to wheel the cart into the cooler and left it once he realized the time.

"Seven fifty already. I really need to be less picky about what I receive." He said to himself as he turned on the silver coffee maker in the corner. He turned to walk back to the walk-in when he heard a slight knock on the back door. "Well at least she is on time." He said before yelling "Its open, come on in."