Christmas food
20 December 2004 12:10![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
denI ordered my christmas food today.
4kg shelled prawns
1doz. Balmain Bugs (aka slipper lobsters)
1kg smoked salmon
2 doz oysters
2 doz green-lipped mussels
1 anti-otter beating stick
1 ham
3 chickens
1 leg of pork (mmm crackle)
A friend says she will be bringing a turkey.
That should be enough to feed 20 people. Which is lucky because that's how many people will be here.
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oceansedge and james_b might have to eat leftovers while they're here.
4kg shelled prawns
1doz. Balmain Bugs (aka slipper lobsters)
1kg smoked salmon
2 doz oysters
2 doz green-lipped mussels
1 anti-otter beating stick
1 ham
3 chickens
1 leg of pork (mmm crackle)
A friend says she will be bringing a turkey.
That should be enough to feed 20 people. Which is lucky because that's how many people will be here.
oceansedge and james_b might have to eat leftovers while they're here.![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 19 Dec 2004 17:11 (UTC)What?
The feast sounds wonderful, by the way. I hope you have a wonderful holiday.
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Date: 19 Dec 2004 17:19 (UTC)What?
That's what I was going to ask. Do you have much trouble with otters stealing your seafood out there in the Outback, Den?
And I concur, it sounds great. Enjoy yourself!
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Date: 19 Dec 2004 18:01 (UTC)no subject
Date: 19 Dec 2004 17:44 (UTC)**drool**
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Date: 19 Dec 2004 19:05 (UTC)no subject
Date: 19 Dec 2004 20:24 (UTC)Otter beating stick Part I
Date: 20 Dec 2004 00:56 (UTC)Alexsander presses the switch on his carotid mike to turn it on. "All units, check in," he whispers.
Behind the fence to the backyard, a quadrupedal feline gives a soft shake of her collar. "Unit one in position." Down the street in an tip collecting vehicle, two ferrets pause in their collection of street-side tips long enough to murmur, "Unit two in position." And out on the curb, the large, green tip rustles softly as the raccoon concealed inside taps his own carotid mike. "Unit three in position."
The otter nods softly, pleased with how things are going so far. "All units, this is Conqueror. Commence operation shellfish...on my mark. Now, now, now."
Behind the house on Davidson Drive, the feline-unit one-leapt up to the top of the fence and began to stride along the edge as if she owned it. Of course, she was carefull to make a bit of noise while doing so, to attract the attention of the dog on the stoop. Polly, being the ever-watchfull guard-dog, heard the noise and looked up.
Her fur began to bristle. A cat! And a cheeky one at that! How DARE that filthy feline come on her patch?! Time to show that furry little bint who's the boss around here! With an eager bark, Polly vaulted off the back porch and made a beeline for the offending fenceline-prowling feline.
In the front of the house, Den was just opening the car park to take out the dustbins to the tip on the curb, when he heard Polly bark. He shrugged and started to drag the bins to the curb. No worries, the dog's always barking at something or other.
In the backyard, Polly jumped up on the side of the fence with a bang and a fusillade of furious barking. Unit one, ever the crafty individual, deliberately stumbled as if she'd been startled, and allowed her backside to tumble off the fence and into the yard. Polly, seeing this delightful development, began to bark all the more, and began trying to jump up and give this felonious feline a proper nipping about the backside.
Watching from his concealed location, Alexander grinned at the spectacle. "Unit three, prepare to move. Unit two, maintain schedule." He tried not to laugh out loud. "Unit one, enjoy yourself."
The feline dangling from the fence just grinned. This was going to be good.
Polly was jumping and barking, trying to catch at least a portion of the tail of the dangling cat, when things suddenly changed. Unit one turned around and leapt directly at the dog, claws splayed and fur poofed out like a bottlebrush. Hissing like a runaway boiler, she fell upon the poor pooch like a furry hurricane.
Out front, Den was treated to the most horrifying cacaphony of shrieks, yelps and kai-yais as he'd ever heard in his life. "Bloody Hell!" he shouted, dropping the dustbins onto the street and legging it towards the house. Some bloody bastard was killing his dog!
But Unit One was doing no such thing, although by all accounts of the neighbors, Satan himself had come up from the depths and was skewering Polly with his flaming pitchfork. After falling upon the dog-and quite thoroughly enjoying the look of utter shock and horror upon her muzzle-the feline began thwapping the dog with her paws and hissing like a runaway boiler that had just been shot with a machine gun.
"*HISSHISSHISS*SPITTT!*" *FWAPFWAPFWAP*
Otter Beating Stick Part II
Date: 20 Dec 2004 00:57 (UTC)As Den charged into the house through the carpark, Unit Three popped his head out of the tip and spied the chest freezer in the carpark. Leaping out of the tip, he dashed into the open carpark and lifted the cover on the chest freezer, and smiled. "Ahhhhh, there we are, my pretties!" he chittered. Quick as a wink, the prawns, bugs and smoked salmon all vanished into the insulated bag. Closing the lid, the raccoon turned to leave, and saw the iced bucket of oysters and mussels. "No good wasting anything, wot?" he chuckled, adding the lot to his bag. Now somewhat burdened, he dashed back to the curb and leapt into the tip, just as the two ferrets pulled up in the garbage truck.
Unit One decided that enough was enough, and released the shrieking dog just as Den came charging into the back yard with a frying pan in his hand. "Wot the...git! G'wan, git!" he yelled, waving the pan at the cat. Polly had recovered from her fright and decided to take a more proper canine stance to this sort of shennanigans, and began to tear off towards the cat with a newfound surge of courage.
For her part, Unit One did her level best to look frightened by the whole thing. She poofed out her fur and dashed around the yard, making half-hearted attempts at leaping over the fence, only to fall back into the yard again. Of course, this had the net effect of driving Polly absolutely bonkers, and Den to jumping up and down, shouting, "Gettim! Gettim, Pollaay!! Have a go, ya mug!"
Watching through the night-vision binoculars, Alexsander tried to hold back the laughter. "Unit one, this is Conqueror. Break contact, I say again, break contact!" He turned the binocs to the street in front of the house. The two ferrets had already dumped Unit Three into the back, and were cleaning up the dustbins Den had dropped in his hurry to get back and save his dog.
"Unit two and three, you are clear to go." In his binocs, the otter could see one of the ferrets tip his finger against his hat before he climbed into the cab and drove off. Back in the yard, Unit One had finally jumped over the fence, and was tearing across the yards like a shot. All the dogs in the immediate neighborhood had been following the ruckus with eagerness, and were simply delighted to have a go at the fleeing feline as she came through their patch on her way to rendevous with the rest of the team. Not that any of them had a chance, but it was certainly amusing to allow them to think that way.
Alexsander clicked off his binocs and slipped out of his hiding spot, slid through the bushes and onto the far street. The boys had already pulled over and Charlie the raccoon had already climbed out of the scrupulously cleaned truck, swapping his precious package to a cooler in the cab. "Good job, mates!" the otter churred, hopping up into the cab. Not long after, Tina leapt up to join him, purring contentedly. Walter and William nodded and grinned toothy ferret grins as Walter gunned the engine and drove away.
Otter Beating Stick Part III
Date: 20 Dec 2004 00:58 (UTC)Charlie grinned and shook his head. "Not quite. I just wish I could see his face when he finds what I left for him in the oyster bucket!" The others looked at the raccoon, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"Good dog, Polly," Den shouted, rubbing his pal along the ribs and scritching her back. "Gooood doooog! Yes you are! Yes you are!" Polly, for her part, was wagging her entire backside, toungue dangling in happy breathlessness. Yet another feline invasion had been thwarted, thanks to her incredible bravery! Yes, she was a good dog, indeed.
When Den came back out front, he noticed that the garbage truck had already been here and picked everything up. They'd even been so nice as to empty his dustbins and arrange them neatly on the curb. "Huh...good on ya, mates? Ta, wot?" he said to himself, making a note to buy them a bottle of Yellowtail or something equally nice. So nice of them to take care of him like that.
As he carried the bins back into the carpark, he noticed the bucket he'd been keeping the shellfish in was now empty. Well, mostly empty, anyway. Some thoughtful bloke had plucked his anti-otter beating stick off the wall and propped it up in the leftover ice in the bottom of the bucket.
Cue music (http://home.no.net/laaarl/midi/MISSION.MID).
Re: Otter Beating Stick Part III
Date: 20 Dec 2004 01:27 (UTC)But at least you left me my beer, ya theivin bastid.
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Date: 20 Dec 2004 07:28 (UTC)no subject
Date: 20 Dec 2004 14:05 (UTC)no subject
Date: 20 Dec 2004 14:08 (UTC)