The Light Lunch

 

“I’d be really disappointed if someone gave me a light lunch,” said Mildred the Venusian.

 

“Why?,” said her husband, Harold (who was also from Venus).

 

“Because it would float off into space!”

 

Harold gave Mildred that look that husbands throughout the universe have been giving their wives since the singularity.

 

They slithered into the restaurant and a Jovian cloudfish drifted towards them.

 

“Good afternoon,” said the waitress (the Jovian cloudfish). “Table for two?”

 

“Yes, please,” said Mildred.

 

The waitress showed them to a table and handed them menus.

 

“Can you tell me what specials you have today?,” said Mildred.

 

“We have roasted Martian Fireworm scallops with a light dusting of desiccated Mercury Mole spit and a selection of intergalactic peas.”

 

“What are intergalactic peas?,” asked Harold.

 

“Peas from different galaxies,” said the waitress.

 

“I wish I hadn’t asked,” said Harold.

 

“Don’t be rude, Harold,” said Mildred. “How much is that?,” she asked the waitress.

 

“Eighteen scrockles and ninety-five flurks,” said the waitress.

 

Harold gave Mildred a look which meant throughout the universe, “Too expensive.”

 

Mildred sighed. “Do you have anything...?” - she gave the waitress a look which meant throughout the universe, “Cheaper.”

 

“That is the least expensive of our specials,” said the waitress. “But I can recommend our ‘light lunch’.”

 

Mildred looked at Harold.

 

Harold nodded.

 

Mildred looked really disappointed.

 

...

 

With a tight-lipped smile, Mildred ordered a ‘light lunch,’ then Harold ordered a toasted teacake and a glass of water.

 

When the waitress had left, Mildred said, “I thought you were treating me, Harold.”

 

“I am treating you,” said Harold.

 

“To a ‘light lunch,’ while you sit there nibbling grudgingly on a toasted teacake?”

 

“This is an expensive restaurant.”

 

“It’s our anniversary!”

 

“Didn’t you like the new food processor?”

 

“Yes, it will go very nicely with the one you gave me last year.”

 

“It has extra functions.”

 

“Singular, Harold. And I hardly consider ‘bean masher’ to be an ‘extra function’ worthy of the alleged upgrade.”

 

“There are many things you can do with mashed beans.”

 

“Name three.”

 

“Here’s our food!”

 

...

 

Harold nibbled grudgingly on his toasted teacake, whilst Mildred was handed a plate with a forcefield over it.

 

“Why the forcefield?,” asked Mildred.

 

“To stop it floating off into space,” said the waitress.

 

“So how do I eat it?,” said Mildred.

 

“Very quickly,” said the waitress.

 

Mildred sighed and picked up her fork.

 

“Will that be all today?,” asked the waitress.

 

“Bring the bill in five minutes,” said Mildred.

 

“Certainly, madam,” said the waitress, who then departed.

 

Mildred pressed the button on the side of the plate which lifted the forcefield, then stabbed one of the sprout-sized purple balls scattered thereupon. As she brought the fork to her mouth, the other little purple balls started to rise off the plate. She managed to niftily impale two of them, each upon a single tine of her fork, but just as she allowed herself a small celebratory smile at her success, the others started to float too far off her plate to be forkable.

 

The waitress reappeared in her field of vision.

 

“How is your light lunch?,” she asked.

 

“Infuriating,” said Mildred.

 

“Would you like a net to catch the remaining Jovian cloudfish eggs?,” asked the waitress.

 

So that’s what they are - thought Mildred, as she grimaced around the three tasteless purple balls she had managed to shove into her mouth, before the others started to drift towards the exit.

 

“I really don’t think it would be worth it,” said Mildred. “Can we have the bill now please?”

 

“I’ve not finished my toasted teacake,” said Harold.

 

“Yes, you have,” said Mildred, as she got up and got ready to leave.

 

“It looks like I have,” said Harold, as the waitress went off to get the bill.

 

...

 

The Jovian cloudfish eggs travelled through the door of the restaurant, paused, as if deciding where to go next, then started to rise and spread into the sky. Being Jovian and being cloudfish eggs, they naturally sought zones of, well, cloudiness. So they didn’t stop rising until they reached the clouds. Then they stopped, wiggled a bit and got comfy. After three days of gestation, they hatched. When the Jovian cloudfish emerged, all of them female (because all Jovian cloudfish are female), they lived in the clouds for a bit, then returned to the ground to become waitresses.