It would be hard to imagine anyone not liking "Avenue Q."  There are a few possible excuses, but here's why those don't fly.

You don't like musicals. Well, neither do I, usually. But the Broadway phenomenon, which began its short run (through June 7) at the Cadillac Palace Theatre Wednesday, isn't overly flashy or in your face or intent on singing every plot detail and emotion. In chronicling life lessons learned by New York puppets, their neighbors, and their super Gary Coleman (no, not actually played by Gary Coleman), "Avenue Q" addresses both complex social issues (the tune "Everyone's a Little Bit Racist") and basic human truths (the search for purpose) that speak to even the most musical-phobic viewers. The songs may stick around in your brain, but at least they'll have company from a widely accessible story that finds the humor in finding your way.

You don't like puppets. For starters, who doesn't like puppets? Plus, this isn't a puppet show. The actors are on stage, holding up the puppets, making no effort to pretend that it's really the puppets singing. But the cast does a tremendous job of creating feelings and personalities for the puppets, both by manipulating the dolls' mouths and arms and by adjusting their own expressions. Besides, even if you aren't a fan of, say, the Muppets, who's going to turn down a chance to see such a believable depiction of puppets getting drunk?

You think there's nothing profound to learn from a comedy born on Broadway. OK, "Avenue Q" isn't trying to shake up your perspective or bring on any major epiphanies. But who hasn't sometimes felt like their life sucks? (The play opens with characters trying to one-up each other's misery in a competition that's straight out of "Jaws.") Or that it's harder to make the smart decision than to listen to our vices? (The characters are plagued by "Bad Idea Bears" who get sad if their victims don't give into potentially regrettable temptations.) Or that, whether you're fresh out of college or still trying to solidify a career 10 years later, the more you learn the less you know?

Um, I really can't think of any other reasons. "Avenue Q" isn't perfect; the second half can't quite sustain the first half's energy, and the whole thing ends a little abruptly. But it's very funny and, even on the Chicago production's opening night, reminds you of the joy of watching an original, spunky  musical that respects its audience's intelligence ... and dares to discuss adult topics with kids' toys. No, it's not "Sesame Street" meets "Crank Yankers." It's just a guaranteed fun night of live entertainment.

We admit it: We’re warmongers. Not in a Karl Rove sort of way. More in an Anthony Bourdain sort of way. Admittedly, it helps when the conflict involves linguine and clams rather than the deployment of additional troops to the Middle East.

What’s not to love about Restaurant Wars? Forget the ho-hum conflict between Warehouse Kitchen and Mai Buddha for a moment. The “war” in this week’s episode could just as easily have referred to the knock-down, drag-out battle between Dale and Lisa. Total. Kitchen. Smackdown. We haven’t seen this much drama since Season Two, when Tiffani went head-to-head with Dave “I’m not your bitch, bitch” Martin.

From the moment Antonia won the Lou Mitchell’s Quickfire Challenge and the right to pick her dream team (Richard and Stephanie) for Restaurant Wars, it was clear that someone from team Bad Attitude was going home. But who? Would it be Greasy Lisa? ’Roid Rage Dale? Spaztastic Spike?

It came down to two words: Butterscotch scallops. (Or three words, if you’re Anthony Bourdain: “Willy Wonka scallops.”) Dale’s probably a better chef than either Lisa or Spike, but he was increasingly spending more time insulting his fellow cheftestants and bickering with Lisa than tasting his food, and it cost him. We weren’t too sad to see him go.

Dale’s departure was an upset, but that makes our predictions easy. Here’s how they’ll go, in the order they’ll pack their knives.

Lisa: The judges are on to her bad attitude and resistance to constructive criticism. The whole laksa thing was a stroke of bad luck, so we’ll give her a pass there. (Really, what are the odds that one of this country’s foremost laksa tasters is going to stroll into your kitchen during the one episode you’re making laksa?) But her mango “sticky rice” (note our use of quotes) was an atrocity. For a dish that requires exactly four ingredients, that’s inexcusable.

Spike: Damn! Boy cleans up well! Even Padma took note. All that was missing from his dapper front-of-house ensemble was a top hat. Spike may not be the best chef this season, but he’s wily enough to slither through to the top four.

Still the top three, in alphabetical order: 

Antonia

Richard

Stephanie

And now, we drink.

Seeing as how the “Top Chef’ powers have given us at least one more week with one of the season’s more interesting characters, we can’t help but apply a rule to the show’s most colorful former line cook. Yes, this week’s rule honors the only cheftestant in the history of the show who might have his own milliner: Spike.

This week’s rule: Drink every time Spike appears on screen in a hat.

To recap:

Rule No. 1: Drink every time Lisa curses.

Rule No. 2: Drink every time a Glad product appears on screen. Chug for the first five seconds of any Glad commercial.

Rule No. 3: Drink every time Dale lashes out, directly or indirectly.

Rule No. 4: Chug for five seconds any time someone says “threw me under the bus” or similar.

Rule No. 5: Drink for every tight shot/zoom of a GE Monogram logo.

Rule No. 6: Drink every time Spike appears on screen wearing a hat.

Next week: The road to Puerto Rico!