16 January 2006

The Pre-Game Show

A roundish stood in the snack food aisle, shopping cart akimbo to cover the maximum passageway.

I cleared my throat.

Nothing.

Her brow was furrowed in concentration. Should she get the Deep Fried LardBits™ or the Lite Deep Fried LardBits™ (30% Fewer calories but still enough fuel to put a satellite in orbit) with the Suet dipping sauce.

“Excuse me” She flinched and turned towards the sound. I was examined and determined to be inedible. She turned back to her lardish pondering.

Excuse me, Jabba the Hut, but your shopping trolley is blocking the aisle. I’d move it myself, but it is too heavy to shift as it contains enough trans-fatty acids to satisfy the cravings of sub-Saharan Africa for a year.”

“There is no need to be rude!” She responded.

Au contraire. Kick-off was fast approaching and if I was delayed any further, I would surely miss part of the game.

I let loose with an invective laced explanation the would have shocked, SHOCKED! the Foreign Office should such wording have been leveled at foreign dignitary that was not Chirac.

The response was a serious sniff. “You are so sleeping on the couch tonight, Evil.”

“I don’t care, just move it.” I replied. “Oh, and throw in a bag of Cheese Puffs, would you, Honey?”


And that's the way I likes it.