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The Black Spot wrote:Bah! Don't talk to me about Green Cap'n Smith.
The other day ee sez to me "Meet me tomorrow night for a drink and a curry. I'm buying." Well, that sounded alright in my book, so I meets 'im in The Mahatma Kote Restaurant on the high street. I were starvin' - I'd deliberately 'ad nuffin to eat all day, an' I were ready to eat a dinner that'd put a big hole in Smith's wallet.
"You're in for a treat tonight," said Green Cap'n Smith. "This restaurant does a very ecological menu; everything here is prepared so as not to harm the environment in any way."
Anyway, the first course turned up; it were a very thin, very pale soup. No lumps or nuffin innit. I sipped it - gah! It 'ad a nasty, insipid, slightly soapy flavour. I spits it out all o'er the table.
"What's this muck?" I sez.
"Nutshell broth," sez Smith. "People just throw nutshells away. Here, they make a healthy, nutritious starter from them. Cleans the palate wonderfully."
Cleans yer palate, I thought? Tastes more like one o' these tree-huggin' bastids had decided to recycle the dishwater. I slung the bowl at the nearest waiter an' told 'im to bring the next course out.
I needn't 'ave bothered. What turned up next were summit that looked like a bundle o' twigs wi' a spoonful o' cold sick poured over it.
"What the hell be this?" I sez, pokin' it wi' me fork.
"Chicken bone rissole," sez Green Smith crunchin' a mouthful o' the muck. "You see, most people just throw chicken bones away. Here they--"
"Smith," I sez. "Has ye ever thought about why people throw these things away?"
"Of course," 'ee sez. "It's because they're wasteful barbarians who have no thought at all for the planet. If..."
I missed the rest o' what Smith were sayin' coz I were so pleased with the nice "clunk" noise the pile o' chicken bones made when they bounced off the waiter's head.
"No, Smith," I sez. "They throw 'em away coz they be bluddy 'orrible. Everything in 'ere be bluddy 'orrible." I picked up a menu. "Look at this," I sez pointin' at the menu. "Eggshell fritter! An what's this - beak and claw flambe! And here - baked antlers!" I went to throw the menu at the waiter, but 'ee were hidin' in the kitchen. "Yer all bluddy nutters!" I shouted, an' stormed out an' went down the Admiral Benbow fer a pie made out o' the good bits o' an animal.
I tells ye, if Green Cap'n Smith ever invites me to a meal again, he'll get me carbon footprint up the arse o' his trousers.
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