This is a collaborative fiction project. It's strictly for fun, but the results are often rather amusing. I, the Walrus, scribbled down chapter one and Denzella wrote chapter two, and now we need more contributions.Please. Pretty please?
You can write a brief paragraph or two off the top of your head or a great swathe of carefully considered text of unbelievable literary merit, it doesn't matter. You can continue with the vein of the story or introduce a terrorist attack or an alien invasion or bloody Jedward walking into the restaurant, demanding a meal and getting their just deserts - I don't give a monkeys, as long as someone writes something.
Chapter one, posted by The Walrus on July 11, 2012 - 00:05
Vince was a chef, a very special sort of a chef, he thought, but it was a pity that his paltry wage didn't reflect his undeniable excellence.
He was a pastry chef, and he worked in a really fancy West End restaurant. It was the sort of place that expected one to speak in a poncey French accent in front of the opulent, stuck-up clientèle. Vince found that expectation very hard to live up to, because, he often told himself, one was a very down to earth sort of a bloke - in fact if one was any more down to earth one would have to permanently lie on the bleeding ground. Vince came from Scunthorpe, and his mother, bless her soul, claimed that he was the fucker responsible for putting the 'cunt' into Scunthorpe. Well now he was in a position to show the world how much of a cunt he could be if he really put his mind to it.....
His older brother, Nobby, had recently won a substantial sum on the lottery. Nobby was opening a fancy restaurant of his own in Manchester, and he wanted Vince to be in charge. "Brilliant," Vince said when he heard the news. "I intend to show my boss, Jean-Claude Vallier, who's real name happens to be Brian Haddock, how to feed the scum whose pimply, pampered arses he sincerely believes the sun shines out of. I'm gonna feed them all on long dead cod pie and puke vol-au-vents and dog shit roly-poly. I'll show those wankers who's a cunt!"
It was Vince's first shift since he had received his good news, and for the first time in seven hellish years he entered the kitchen with a huge, smarmy grin plastered across his face.
Chapter two, posted by Denzella on July 12, 2012 - 07:11
“Good Morning Jean Claude, Out of my way if you please and make room for a master. I have an urge to create while the need is upon me but first I must take a piss will you give me your hand please. In the interests of hygiene I need you to hold it while I urinate in your pocket. Jump to it you poncey French impostor. Or would you prefer it if I went into the restaurant and pissed on your favourite customer, I believe I saw the Minister sitting out there. Oh and I know I saw the Archbishop as I came through picking my nose and scratching my arse.
Ah, now that’s better you can go now I will call you when I need to do number twos. What did you say Dish of the Day was? Well, as this is going to be my last day I have taken the liberty of altering the board to include my contribution to the shit you serve up here and laughingly call food.
Don’t stand there with your mouth open. Now where is my Chef’s knife and no, that is not a threat. On second thoughts where is my chopper? Oh, silly me you’ve still got it in your hand. Now you know you can’t keep it. I can’t work my culinary magic with you holding my chopper. That’s it… now give it a little shake. This is a kitchen after all. Hygiene must be our first priority.
Now, today, I have brought some of my own ingredients at my own expense. The reason for this is that I came in earlier and brought in the A Frame board from the pavement outside and marked it up with the best of my signature dishes and here is today’s printed Menu.
A tin of Heinz Chunky Vegetable Soup – a la con Vichyssoise
A Confection of Farts in batter served with relish and Syrup of Figs Comfit
Sautéed Testicles served in a white whine sauce
Kitchen fresh cockroach salad with a vinaigrette dressing
For the Main
Beef Wellington with fennel and Pedigree Chum served on a bed of leaves
Stake Dianne served with button mushrooms and a soup song of blood jus
Fish Dish - Boiled Bloater served with anything found on the kitchen floor
Sun dried Cowpat pancakes served the traditional way with sugar and lemon
Bread and gutter pudding
Crap Suzette with a twist of Cannabis and drizzled with a red onion coulis.
“I’m afraid I didn’t bring the testicles for the ‘Sautéed Testicles’ I thought you would
supply them. No need to flinch…it’s only my chef’s knife!
With the Beef Wellington, I’m sorry, but it was raining when I took the dog out and I didn’t have time to scrape the dog shit off and the bed of leaves, I think, might still have conkers attached.
As for the Stake, I take it your wife, Dianne is coming in today especially as I’ve brought my stake and I’m pretty sure they are mushrooms…
The Bread and Gutter pudding was a problem too as I had to fight off a load of pigeons for this ingredient they were pecking and crapping faster than I could pick up the bread.
As a matter of fact you look as if you might be doing much the same, crapping that is, as you seem to have a big brown mark on the back of your whites. Still once you’ve eaten your way through every item on my Menu the result will be very similar.
What’s that you say…Oh, I think you will… Why, because the little shit you call your son and who normally works in the restaurant is as we speak hanging upside down in the cold room of a friends butcher’s shop. Oh, and did I tell I you that this would be my last day working in this hell hole under a poncey French tyrant who has never been nearer to France than the ferry boat terminal at Dover.
I will untie you now so you can start the first of your Starters.