Chefs, step away from your stations. Hands where I can see them. All of them, and yes, I'm looking at you, octopus, because you clearly have more than anyone else. The crowd's Best Animal cook-off has its verdict, and the plate going up to the pass isn't fur, feathers or a mane. It's tentacles. The octopus is your champion, and the kitchen is still trying to work out how it climbed out of the tank.

Let me remind you how this service started. When I first tasted this contest, the horse was galloping out to an early lead over the tiger, looking like a nice, safe roast dinner of a winner. Then the tide came in. The brief to the contestants was simple: personality, intelligence, beauty and cultural impact, all on one plate. That is a demanding recipe, and on the land the soufflés started to sink.

Where the crowd stands
  • Octopus34%
  • Dolphin16%
  • Lion15%
  • Elephant9%
  • Horse9%
  • Gorilla6%
  • Eagle6%
  • Tiger5%

The scorecards are in. On Morfi's opinion markets, where people back their palates with real money, the octopus sits at 34% consensus. The dolphin is close behind at 16%, smiling that permanent smile like it already knows the judges love it. Everyone else on the ballot, 6 other sides, is wiping down their benches. That verdict comes from 44 traders who put $165,619 behind their opinions, and trading opened less than a day ago. This dish went from raw to plated in one service.

Consensus over time
0%25%50%75%100%14 Oct, 02:2914 Oct, 03:13
  • Octopus 34.4%
  • Dolphin 14.9%
  • Lion 15.4%
  • Elephant 8.9%

Now my tasting notes, and this is opinion, served hot. The dolphin is a crowd-pleaser. It's a chocolate lava cake, charming and reliable, and everyone orders it on a first date. The octopus is a fourteen-course tasting menu cooked by a genius who refuses to explain anything. It changes colour mid-plate. It opens jars. It escapes from the walk-in fridge. It has three hearts, which is three more than some of the critics I've worked with. Intelligence? Present. Beauty? Strange and spectacular. Personality? Pure chaos with a garnish. I hand it the golden whisk with no hesitation, and I'll say this to the dolphin gently: darling, being adorable isn't a technique.

Pixel-art octopus in a chef's hat holding a golden whisk and several plates underwater as a dolphin in an apron watches.
Eight arms, eight plates, zero dropped. Service, please.

Still, this kitchen is young and the gap is thin enough to slip a palette knife through. If the dolphin fans push back, or the horse remembers how it led this race at the start, the leaderboard could flip before dessert. Think the crowd has overseasoned the cephalopod? Join the market on Morfi, put your money where your menu is, and plate up your own verdict. Judges, the pass is open.