Imagine with me for a minute…imagine that instead of a rat with a taste for fine dining he were an “illegal alien” in that gourmet kitchen. Yes it would make sense that he were the dishwasher, invisible to the rest of the kitchen staff. That is, until he started making suggestions to the rookie chef on how to improve his “soup.” The rookie chef being insecure as can be in the BIG city and also coming from a humble background thinks nothing of the fact that he is actually taking suggestions from someone who can’t even speak his language. Ah, the soup is a hit…must have been the “oregano”…he he. So the rookie chef gets noticed for “his” cooking and the relationship with the source of his inspiration grows. The “immigrant” thrives on the fact that even if it is indirectly he is living his dream of cooking, and the rookie chef is, well, no longer a rookie. Well of course eventually the truth comes out….the exterminator (immigration) gets an anonymous phone call that there are “rodents” (illegals) in the building. Oh how could this be in a fine establishment that tends to serve only the well bred “rightful” citizens. The kind of citizens that draft up immigration “reform” that would classify the very cooks in the kitchen serving their fine gourmet meals as unfit residents because well…they are seen as little above rodents who congregate in masses. Then of course the controversy divides the kitchen staff where most quit and before you know it the kitchen is full of dare I say…”illegal aliens”. Just then the most anti-immigrant powerful politician happens to come in for a meal…turns out that this meal connects him to a distant memory of his humanity common to us all regardless of our backgrounds…a truly heartfelt moment.

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