THE FUSE

It’s T-minus Mother’s Day at your favorite lavish, all-you-can-eat brunch place. Chefs will admit that for weeks, cooks have been cutting off the unappetizing ends of ham and tossing them into the freezer for that “Deluxe Omelet Bar.” Sauces, made several days ago, already are congealing in the walk-in. Chimichangas, made on Thursday and getting soggier by the minute, are waiting for their turn to be revived in the deep fryer. And housekeeping has stocked bathroom stalls with plenty of full rolls of toilet paper in anticipation of the gastric distress that will hit the anxious, the angry and the overeaters, starting about half an hour after the first bites of that “deluxe” brunch are eaten.