Learning from my recent dabble in farming life, I came to realize turning the grime-covered raw elements of rural areas into palatable components presents quite a challenge. Aggravatingly enough, there's no reward or appreciation for this tedious work. It wasn't like all my hard work made much difference anyway — whether it was for painstakingly nurturing my carrots, tirelessly taking care of my pigs or masterfully acquiring a herd of cows from adjacent villages, I never obtained a single commendation or motivation.

However, buried anger always stimulates my imaginative side, which sparked a fresh concept. How about disregarding the laborious task of bringing up livestock and cultivating plants and, instead, cater the audience with highly valued meals? Simply put, why not start a restaurant business?

Immediately, I started planning. The first step is creating an awe-evoking dining space where even the well-off gourmets would want to journey from afar. Luckily, I had a perfect venue to build such a wonder.

The chosen location presents a captivating marine vista right at the periphery of a lively hamlet. I can vividly picture the moment — villagers rejoicing as they feast on my delightful dishes against an environment that magnifies the elegance of nature. The crowd bursts into applause spontaneously as I stride into the hall after an intense service. A formerly doubtful food critic crowns me, visibly moved. "I was mistaken to question you," he declares. "You are truly the predestined one". 

Architecturally, I come to the conclusion that my restaurant should exude elegance, sophistication, and unrivaled taste above all. Crystal-clear glass walls installed on every side enable guests to admire the stunning landscape while they dine. However, finalizing a kitchen design comes with difficulties. To meet the overwhelming volume of orders, it was crucial to install an array of ovens and smokers, which would require substantial space. Ultimately, I choose to dig up the cellar and place my cooking equipment there. Despite being a bleak and blind area, it prevents customers from getting a glimpse of the low-cost mix I plan to base all their meals on.

With the kitchen ready to roll, it's nearly time to welcome the infatuated masses into my restaurant. The final task, which is perhaps the most vital of all, is to name the establishment. I brainstorm a list of elegant and posh alternatives:

  • Opulent Feast
  • Monsieur Velvet
  • The Ham Mansion
  • Gourmet™
  • Sideboard

Barely fitting above the entrance, my final choice settles on "UG," a perfectly valid two-letter term in the game Scrabble. If that doesn't articulate class and sophistication, I don't know what else does.

Finally, the time to launch arrives. I open the doors wide, expecting eager crowds, only to find the auspiciously large waiting zone I'd designated tragically vacant. A single villager comes close enough for me to consider him a customer, so I escort him into the dining hall with the elegance of a top-tier steward. Now, to tackle cooking.

At this moment, I discovered that I did not have a single food item on the premises. I'm mature enough to accept that this is a major lapse on my part, but not mature enough to skip having a five-minute tantrum before I actually attempt to address the issue. I rummage through my stock in desperate hope of finding some Michelin-grade ingredients. Alas! I have only a single edible – a ripe piece of decaying meat. Can I potentially serve my only customer a piece of zombie flesh? I contemplate the ethical dilemma for a while before heading upstairs to a deserted dining room.

Closing the doors and switching off the lights, I reflect upon the lessons from my latest grand failure. Was it impulsive to think I could establish a globally recognized restaurant in two days? Was it an error to not draft a business plan or to scorn the person suggesting one by mimicking their words monotonously until they left? And was it arguably unjust to intentionally demolish several local homes during UG’s construction, even though I could have picked a similarly picturesque spot nearby?

No, the true lesson is that my self-belief wasn’t strong enough. It’s high time I undertake another adventurous business venture – this time I am certain it’s bound to be a triumph!