A Slug in my soup.
Two years ago I was in a small cafe in Milngavie having lunch with my wife. I ordered the soup, carrot and coriander, while my wife, I think, had some duck pate. When the soup came it smelled delicious, but on tasting the first spoonful of orangey sustenance I noticed a small chewy lump, which I then surreptitiously spat back out onto my spoon. Imagine my surprise when I saw that the chewy lump was a slug!

"Crikey!" I said (or words to that effect) "This won't do, I'm going to jolly well complain."

But ere the first words of complaint had left my mouth, I heard the customer at the next table voice his distemper over the self same issue. The waiter tried to placate him, with weasel words: "I'm very sorry sir. This must have been an unfortunate error."

I could not but intervene - "More than an error!" says I "For I too have a gastropodal infestation in my comestibles. There must be some kind of systemic failure in the kitchen", and to my fellow diner I added "I suggest we investigate further!". It was at this point that I noticed that the other customer was none other than David Tennant, of Dr Who fame. Thus, immediately thereafter, David (following this adventure I am now on first name terms) and I proceeded to the kitchen with the waiter to remonstrate with the chef.

Then came my third surprise of the day. The chef was none other than elderly comedian, Tommy Cannon, of "Cannon and Ball" fame.

"Tommy!" says David "What is the meaning of molluscs in our bisques?"

Tommy (following this encounter I am now on first name terms) was shocked at the sluggy presence in the soup. "I am reet sorry lads" says he, in his fine Northern timbre, "Never have ah been so embarrassed by my chowder, by gum. Look now, in the pan I can see many more slugs, and here in this box of carrots the infestation is rife. I am truly sorry, and do not know how I can have missed this before."

"What low life scoundrel has supplied you with such poor quality ingredients?" questioned the erstwhile Doctor, David Tennant.

"Why, all our produce is locally sourced" replied the humourist. "The carrots are grown by a young lady of the town."

"We must repair there at once" quoth I "and complain most vociferously." So David, Tommy and I briskly perambulated to a nearby allotment where a woman was busy weeding the vegetable patch.

"I say there woman" I called "What is the meaning of tendering for sale to this fine old gentleman, vegetables so infested with slugs that they are not fit for consumption by man nor beast?". The woman stood up and faced us, and it was at that point that I recognised her as 90's pop diva Betty Boo, of "Doin' the Do" fame.

"But there can be no slugs in my garden" Betty (following this encounter I am now on first name terms) replied "Because look, I have twelve specially trained and coloured hedgehogs patrolling day and night specifically to consume the nasty little beggars". And indeed she spoke the truth - we had not noticed before, but there on the ground were a dozen pink hedgehogs marching regularly around the allotment. We were baffled - whence the slugs?

At that moment a great shout was heard from the neighbouring allotment, and a small black lump came flying over the fence and landed in the carrots. Bending over, Tommy picked up the lump, and we all gasped to see it was - a slug! As one we rushed to the fence and peered over.

In the neighbouring allotment, a large hairy man was bending over his vegetable patch. "GADZOOKS" cries he, "ANOTHER ONE! BEGONE FOUL CREATURE!" and over his shoulder he threw another slug. It struck David Tennant in the eye, and left a small trail of slime down his cheek.

"Hold fast there good fellow!" I hailed "What is the meaning of this aerial bombardment of invertebrates?"

The man straightened up and turned to face us. It was at this point I recognised him as well known and highly audible thespian Brian Blessed.

"WHAT?!" Cried Brian (following this encounter I am now on first name terms) "WHO ARE YOU?! WHAT DO YOU WANT?! AND WHERE ARE ALL THESE BLASTED SLUGS COMING FROM?!"

But Betty was already pointing at what we had all seen: at Brian's back, a line of slugs was marching from behind the compost heap and into the turnip patch. Quickly we vaulted the fence and followed the moving chain of gastropods to it's origin. Tucked behind the compost heap was a large box, full of slugs. "WHAT?!" cried Brian "WHO HAS PUT THIS HERE?! IT IS NOT MINE!"

Picking up the box, Betty turned it over, and there on the bottom was a label. "Property of Ringo Starr".

"WHAT?! HOW DARE THAT RYTHMIC MUSICIAN SABOTAGE MY ALLOTMENT" shouted Brian "WE MUST TEACH HIM A LESSON! COME ON, I WILL DRIVE!". So David, Tommy, Betty and I climbed into Brian's car (a yellow Ford Anglia with flames down the side) and drove over to Ringo Starr's house.

As we walked up the drive and approached the front door we could hear shouting from within, and in the hallway Ringo (following this encounter I am now on first name terms) was having a stand-up row with another man who had his back to us.

"Why aye mon, Whit yahs alls dooin puttin yon box o slugs in wur allotment like!" cried the gentleman.

"Caam down, caaam down,eh, eh!" replies the Liverpudlian percussionist.

"We also have a container-of-slugs related complaint to make! You must answer our accusations." pipes up our friendly timelord.

"Now listen lads, I have never seen those boxes before in my life, honest!" claimed the bearded bongo basher.

"Well, if not you, then who?" asks Betty, a question which was on all our minds.

"Why aye, I could find oot" chipped in the other man. It was now that I recognised him as none other than Kevin Whately, the Geordie actor famous for playing Sergeant Lewis. "In me pocket I have a prop finger print kit left over from the last episode of Inspector Morse".

Quickly the Humshaugh man dusted the slug boxes with powder, and several finger prints were clearly displayed.

"WHAT?!" cried the blessed Brian "I WOULD RECOGNISE THOSE PRINTS ANYWHERE! ONE JUST SUCH AS THOSE WAS LEFT ON MY BEST TEAPOT THE MORNING AFTER A SWEATY NIGHT OF PASSION BACK IN '91!"

"Good God man, tell us who it is!" I burst out.

"IT'S..."

[edit: sincere apologies to any readers of this anecdote who were left hanging at this cliffhanger point caused by the sudden appearance of my employer. I shall now finish my reminiscence.]

... "Good God man, tell us who it is!" I burst out.

"WHY IT'S YOUNG MS SALERNO!" he declared. "COME WITH ME AT ONCE!".

So David, Tommy, Betty, Brian, Kevin, Ringo and I returned to the Ford Anglia and drove post haste to the mysterius Ms Salerno's house. Who was she, and what was her purpose?

Bursting through her door we found an attractive, naked middle aged lady filling a box with slugs.

"SABRINA!" cried Brian, for it was indeed the Italian 80's pop starlet herself, "ARE YOU UP TO YOUR OLD SLUG SABOTAGING TRICKS AGAIN - FILLING BOXES WITH SLUGS, PUTTING A FAKE NAME ON THE BOTTOM AND THEN SNEAKING THEM ONTO THE ALLOTMENTS OF THE INNOCENT?!"

"Boys, boys, boys!" exclaimed the fine bosomed europop princess, "it-a seems that-a you have-a caught-a me red-a handed. I am-a so sorry, but I can-a make it up-a to you."

And upon so saying she proceded to fellate each and every one of us with gusto and great aplomb. Which was dashed sporting of her. She then promised to never again engage in such slug tom foolery.

So the great slug mystery was solved, and we left happier and wiser than before.

The only downside was that when I returned to the cafe, my soup was cold. And my wife had run off with Lemmy Kilmister, lead singer from Motorhead. But that is tale for another time.
(Mystery_Machine, Wed 14 Oct 2009, 16:51, 3 replies)

Who?
who is it? WHO IS IT?!?
(tim dog, Wed 14 Oct 2009, 17:13, closed)

I like this a lot :D
But who is it?!
(Madam Cholet, Wed 14 Oct 2009, 19:50, closed)

nevermind who it is
what i want to know is which bloody cafe I have to avoid next time I go home.
(bamboozled Can hear you getting fatter, Thu 15 Oct 2009, 7:55, closed)