Sunday, October 31, 2010

The Games That We Play. . .

0This is later in the day after that 'chicks on steroids' read.  Mullethead threw dinner together.  It was a real simple deal.  Peasant food.  A huge slab of bread with garlic powder and a ton of butter, some awesome Jack cheese wedges with garlic and herbs; not that I'm generally a fan of Monterey Jack cheese, but this was one hell of an exception, a killer cream of mushroom soup that probably used every last 'shroom in the fridge, a handful of carrots, a sliced roma tomato, and an English cucumber that had been cut in half, which was real weird.  Now we do get some mighty fine cucumbers, and I will confess to eating some pretty thick slices when I get some good ones for the salad when I make said salad, but this just was NOT the standard way to serve cucumbers.  In fact, it's never been done before.

I just had to hold one of the pieces up, as I looked at the mullethead.  "Are we supposed to eat these, or what?"

The mullethead looked at my mentor.  "Will you do somethin' with him?"

He picked up a piece of cucumber, and had a small bite.  He swallowed, looked at me, smiled, and said, "After dinner.  Will you help?"

"Hell, yeah!"

Oy vey!  

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