Hmmmm....
I do worry this QOTW might get a bit stale - all the stories are basically going to boil down to b3tan/friend of b3tan knows cunt. b3tan/friend of b3tans puts something icky in cunt's food/drink. Cunt eats/drinks icky stuff. I have a standard one but I'll just make it all clipped English.

In the finest borough of Dover there is a vendor of meat that is known in its home land as "kebab". It was named after the great Admiral Kebab, who single handedly lead the Khazakstan army to victory against Japan in WW 0.5.

And so it came to be on one moonlit night that two adventurous fellows did happen upon said vendor. Feeling quite famished from a night of dancing, witty exchange and revalry with the finest social darlings the town had to offer, they decided to happen upon the vendor and try some of this strange ethnic cuisine.

They were slightly melancholic about the affair, but since losing the battle of Crabble Recreation Ground in the year nineteen hundred and ninety eight they had been unable to return to their regular dining quarters for fear of attack from the new ruling party, the O'Brian's of Heathfield Avenue.

"Dear sir, this food looks awfully queer. I think I shall take....what does that say? A doner kebab? Yes, that sounds quite acceptable. Tell me kind sir, who donated it?"

The two patrons laughed at this remark. The shopkeep did not, most likely due to not understanding any language than his own, primitive tongue.

After more banter with the ethnic gentleman they decided to garnish this "doner kebab" with garlic sauce. True, garlic was the herb of the old enemy but by Jove, tonight was a night of adventure, so why not flirt with the tastes of our brethren across the sea?

Upon exiting the shop they sit upon the pavement and look up at the sky. The night was full of stars and they each quietly contemplated how each of those stars have helped Dover's seafaring adventurures conquer mighty Poseidon as they dined upon their new, foreign cuisine. Then a most peculiar thing happened.

"I say old boy, this garlic sauce doesn't taste like what my palate is accustomed to".

But the magic of the night overwhelemed any curiosities about the food and they enjoyed the rest of the night.

But foul things were afoot. Upon a later date, agents sent on behalf Her Majesty did frequent this shop to ensure that this strange foreign food was fit for consumption by the mighty British populace. They found something most peculiar in the garlic sauce. Yes, the British are used to consuming sesame seeds. They are used to consuming poppy seeds.

But human seed?

Fin.
(GONEism, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 22:50, 1 reply)

For some reason
I read this with Bill Bailey's voice in my head (yunno, when he does ye olde bloke goes into ye pubbe joke).
( warmfuzzies Isn't here, Fri 19 Sep 2008, 23:18, closed)