Barnaby Button and the Kalamata Cascade

Barnaby Button considered himself a connoisseur of fine moments, though fate often deemed him a master of the catastrophic. His latest masterpiece in physical comedy unfolded in the gourmet olive oil aisle of 'Whole Foods, Wholeheartedly Expensive.' Spotting a bottle of 'Organic Artisanal Kalamata Infused Elixir' on the very top shelf, Barnaby decided this was his moment for a suave, reach-and-retrieve. He envisioned himself a gazelle, elegant and effortlessly long-limbed. In reality, he resembled a giraffe attempting ballet on ice.

He stretched, his fingers just brushing the bottle, but not quite gripping. Rather than admitting defeat or, heaven forbid, asking for help, Barnaby attempted a daring little hop-and-grab. His foot caught the edge of a display stand for imported crackers. There was a sickening *thud*, followed by a series of *clinks* and *splashes*. The artisanal olive oil, rather than being retrieved, now cascaded down like a very expensive, very fragrant waterfall, pooling around a terrified woman clutching a gluten-free baguette. The sound of shattered glass was punctuated by Barnaby’s own mortified squeak. 'Well,' he stammered, surveying the oil-slicked floor and the now-lubricated bread, 'At least it's... well-seasoned?' His wit, much like his footing, was severely compromised. He decided then and there that from now on, all his culinary adventures would begin and end with opening a jar. With a jar opener. And safety goggles.