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They both liked to cook, but their tastes were very different.
by RC
Jethro and Mabel were a more
or less ordinary senior couple, married for almost forty years and thoroughly
settled in as to habits and likes and dislikes. Almost everything they did
together was peaceful and satisfactory, and they hardly ever quarreled. But
there was that one thing: cooking. Jethro fancied himself that he was just as
good a cook as Mabel, whom folks all around praised for her dishes, and
especially her pies. As I said, they both liked to cook, but their tastes were
very different. One year, for the Church jubilee potluck—which only came once
every ten years—Jethro decided that he was going to outdo his wife; he just had
to have a little of the attention to his own particular culinary skills. For
his special surprise dish, he had to be very secretive. He decided to send away
for the one special ingredient which he couldn’t do without. He waited for two
weeks, but it finally arrived. It so happened that Mabel was out in the front
yard when the package came, delivered by the post man from his horse and buggy,
directly into Jethro’s hands. Mabel gawked, because she had heard nothing about
a package arriving. The silence from Jethro afterwards seemed unbearable for
her; she fumed and stomped around the house, begging him to tell her what it
was.“It’s my little secret,” was all Jethro would say. “My little secret.”He
waited until the day on which Mabel always went into town to the beauty parlor.
She would be gone a good long while. The dishes and pots and pans had never
clattered so loudly in the kitchen, as Jethro threw everything together. He
didn’t care, he could clean later. He knew this dish would take a long time and
all the skill he had. It was a French dish, “Mouffete Flambeau”. Jethro had no
idea what Mouffete meant, but reading the recipe in an old cookbook he had
found in the attic, it sounded wonderful.Three hours later, Jethro was
finished, and he was elated. The big day of the Jubilee potluck came, and
Jethro still hadn’t told his wife what that package in the refrigerator was. He
carried it carefully in their buggy as they went to the Church social. When the
time came for the “unveiling”, he simply said, “I have made my best dish ever—a
Mouffete Flambeau.”It just so happened that there was one person in this church
who spoke French; she had married the local doctor. As soon as she heard what
Jethro had said, she burst out loudly,“Oh, skunk pie! Lovely.”
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by RMAF
There was a lot of pressure at the office to get the client's job done right, efficient and fast. Ms. Abundantly Gifted was reasonably intelligent but her best fur-person friend, Mr. Google Wizdog, was more intelligent than his melancholy, wrinkled-up dog face let on. No-one in the office knew what to expect when she pulled the small pooch out from her big purse.
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"Hubert's religion was science and he worshipped daily."
by TNT
Hubert spent every day in his lab experimenting - inspired, no doubt, by Dr. Frankenstein, Dr. Freud and Dr. Adler. He thought he'd make children without the inconvenience of birth and his wife as agreeable to this. In fact she was delighted to make the costumes for his weird progeny. Unfortunately, the children were strange and other children were suspicious or hostile towards them. They didn't really resemble children - they looked demonic at times. Still, Hubert and his wife cherished them. They were animated by electricity and some had batteries. They had a key hidden in the back and could be wound up like clocks when batteries weren't available. The Missus made them learn things like knitting or using shovels. Hubert's religion was science and her worshipped daily. His lab was his temple. One day the children broke into the lab where they had been created and they busted every test-tube. Then they dismantled each other into parts and exchanged them. In the end, the whole mess was cleaned up by Hubert's wife, who told Hubert he wasn't allowed to make children anymore.
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"She developed a painful rash before giving up altogether."
by CC
The girls in Martha’s Zumba class were excited. Wendy had found a new guru, a man who developed a new workout that, she said, would tone the body and drop that ugly weight faster than running marathons. And you could do it anywhere. Well, anywhere large enough for the costume to fit. She had met this guru at the airport, when he was ferociously haggling with a TSA agent over a huge feathered garment he was carrying. After he made it through she asked him what he had in the bag. “No matter to you missy” he said irritably. “Dance clothes.” “Oh! A dancer!” Wendy said enthusiastically. “Not dancer,” he said. “Do a lot more than dance.” That was how it began, according to her. She had wheedled the truth out of him, and now he was going to show them his secrets. Martha went to the park on Saturday to meet the class on the back lot by Schuster Street and the 7-11. The girls were standing around chatting with big shirts over their leotards and sneakers. Five small black men stood next to a big pile of feathers and a bunch of weird looking hats. One of the men made a motion with his arms and they went to the feather pile and put on their outfits. They put the hats over their heads, faced the girls, and started to dance. Martha tried to copy their moves but developed a painful rash before giving up altogether. She walked away from the group but wasn’t surprised to hear the women cry out “OH!” She didn’t even turn around to look
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by GS
Animal Crackers
The situation had gotten completely out of hand by the time the chicken started resting on top of the puppy. Until then, weird behavior had been exemplified by the dog riding on the goat, which seemed rather mundane now. That poor puppy had no idea how to escape a determined hen with a sharp beak. The two barn cats, on the other hand, both loved sheep, but he loved goats more than she did. When he tried to join the dog on top of he goat, all hell broke loose! The chicken looked at the spectacle of a hissing cat and barking dog both on top of the bleating goat and finally allowed the puppy to escape. Of course he tried to join his mother on top of the goat, but the cat refused with sharp claws. Now the hen seemed a better choice, so he retreated to her nest.
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"It was as if another world had intersected with our own."
by PV
I guess this was an improvement in canine/human relationships. Way back when we only jumped for snacks in the caves, it was a piece of - how do you say it? - cake, but I realize we are all growing evolutionarily. Yet, this - it was as if another world had intersected with our own. Gawd, the next thing we'll be going up in space in a version of Jules Verne's Travels to the Moon! So I am a compliant, 'cute' dog, satisfying the inventive, somewhat aberrant whims of my long standing masters. I suspect it is a vain hope that any vestiges of dignity we have will survive, and I have these disturbing dreams of canine destiny: 101 Dalmations scrambled with The Hound of the Baskervilles and Rin Tin Tin.
