196
R. Linda:
There you sat, your eyes bulging out of your head sizing up the rabbit food, I mean salad. I watched a lump form in your throat and when you gulped, it bobbed up and down like an apple being dipped in mouth watering chocolate.
"Mrs. Egduf? Mrs. Egduf?" The drill sergeant was saying, trying to get you back from whatever terrible place it was your mind had blown off to.
You were in a trance. I knew this would not be a good thing. You had suddenly found yourself in a veggie concentration camp and I was waiting for you to explode. But you didn't, instead you turned as if hypnotised and said, "I like my salad in moderation and RARELY. I had one just the other day and it had carrots in it. I HATE carrots and is that raw cabbage? Because I HATE cabbage and if that crinkly edge stuff is romaine lettuce, well brother, no matter what dressing you put on it, it isn't going to make it better, it will only destroy the whole idea of your stupid salad. Now if you want to get me to eat anything near that, get me a bottle of chocie dressing. THAT'S the only way I'd eat that crap."
We all held our collective breaths. What had you done? You actually said what we were all thinking, but didn't have the courage to voice. Without any warning the drill sergeant looked at ME.
"Mr. O'Sullivan how about it?"
I knew what he meant. Feeling inspired by you, I said, "Well, if it be Greek salad I be all for it. I like the little black olive type thingees, so if you have some of that Greek dressing, bring it on."
I was feeling very brave just then, but that disappeared when the drill sergeant said, "No, sorry, no Greek dressing."
"Okay, how about some bleu cheese then?"
"Trying to kill the taste of the garden are we Mr. O?"
Just then Weasil made a sound that caught the man's attention.
"You have something to say Mr. Weaz el?"
"It iz WEE ZELLL," the Weasil corrected boldly, "Yeah, I sayz if ya eatie one salad yer haz ta eatie em' all." This said with a confirmed shake of his head and everyone of the chocieholics murmured in agreement.
I knew this situation was not good. Everyone was out of their chairs.
"Well, as you can see," the man in the pith helmet said with a grand gesture of his hand towards the giant salad, "there is plenty of salad for EVERYONE in this room, and no room for mutiny.
"Uh ohie," Weasil said looking around.
All the chocieholics started to move backwards in unison towards the wall furthermost away from the giant salad, as the Fat Farm Police started in our direction pushing the salad towards us. We shook our heads and murmured the word 'no' as we kept shuffling backwards. All of us except YOU. I was frankly surprised at this. You stood there by your chair, hands on hips as if saying, "Bring it on you freaks."
I was simply amazed and stopped me muttering and shuffling as you walked up to the giant salad, dragging your chair with you. The Fat Farm Police had stopped rolling it and were watching you as you positioned your chair next to it. You climbed up on the chair and then dove into the salad. Lettuce leaves flew everywhere as you ripped at them and threw them around the room. We chocieholics were shocked! Yes, what a courageous stance. Weasil rose the battle cry and we all left the safety of the far wall and ran to the forks and with forks raised, we charged the man in the pith helmet and the three Fat Farm Policemen. They quickly hoofed it to the door and just as we got there, they threw the chains on locking us in with THE SALAD!
We stood there looking at each other. This was not what we wanted. We were sobered from our bewilderment by you calling out for help.
"Someone get me outta here before I suffocate in this crap!" Your muffled voice could be heard but barely.
We all ran to the bowl but it was too big and we couldn't reach you. You were squirming somewhere in the middle and were complaining about tomato stains when Weasil got the brilliant idea to lift one side of the bowl and dump you out. There was a blur of green, red, and YOU as the bowl dumped its contents all over the floor.
You sat there with a huge lettuce leaf on your head, and I thought you were bleeding until I saw the squished tomato seeds running down your back. I was relieved I have to tell you. Death by lettuce would have been a terrible way to go!
"Wadda we do nowie?" Weasil said, as I helped you up.
You brushed the veggies off and went for the bottle dressing. We could see the man in the pith helmet and his cohorts watching through the glass doors.
"Okay you guys sweep that crap up into one big pile, we are about to make lettuce mache'." You announced holding a bottle of French dressing high in the air.
I glanced at the door and could see the big eyes of the Fat Farm employees as they read your lips. They started struggling with the lock to open the door. Weasil's sharp eyes caught the action and he led five other chocieholics to the door to keep it closed.
The rest of us worked feverishly to pile up the lettuce, you started shaking the French dressing all over the greens while the rest of us mixed. Then you got another bottle, yes, the Thousand Islands was next and again you poured and we mixed, until you had every bottle emptied and we had one sticky, messy lettuce mache'.
"Wee zel," you cried, "stand back we are going to lob that door."
Weasil and company ducked as we threw handfuls of the salad at the door. We glued the sucker shut and when we were sure it was secure we high fived each other. BUT our high didn't last very long when we realised we had glued ourselves in the windowless room. DRAT!
End of part 4
Copyright © 2007 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
There you sat, your eyes bulging out of your head sizing up the rabbit food, I mean salad. I watched a lump form in your throat and when you gulped, it bobbed up and down like an apple being dipped in mouth watering chocolate.
"Mrs. Egduf? Mrs. Egduf?" The drill sergeant was saying, trying to get you back from whatever terrible place it was your mind had blown off to.
You were in a trance. I knew this would not be a good thing. You had suddenly found yourself in a veggie concentration camp and I was waiting for you to explode. But you didn't, instead you turned as if hypnotised and said, "I like my salad in moderation and RARELY. I had one just the other day and it had carrots in it. I HATE carrots and is that raw cabbage? Because I HATE cabbage and if that crinkly edge stuff is romaine lettuce, well brother, no matter what dressing you put on it, it isn't going to make it better, it will only destroy the whole idea of your stupid salad. Now if you want to get me to eat anything near that, get me a bottle of chocie dressing. THAT'S the only way I'd eat that crap."
We all held our collective breaths. What had you done? You actually said what we were all thinking, but didn't have the courage to voice. Without any warning the drill sergeant looked at ME.
"Mr. O'Sullivan how about it?"
I knew what he meant. Feeling inspired by you, I said, "Well, if it be Greek salad I be all for it. I like the little black olive type thingees, so if you have some of that Greek dressing, bring it on."
I was feeling very brave just then, but that disappeared when the drill sergeant said, "No, sorry, no Greek dressing."
"Okay, how about some bleu cheese then?"
"Trying to kill the taste of the garden are we Mr. O?"
Just then Weasil made a sound that caught the man's attention.
"You have something to say Mr. Weaz el?"
"It iz WEE ZELLL," the Weasil corrected boldly, "Yeah, I sayz if ya eatie one salad yer haz ta eatie em' all." This said with a confirmed shake of his head and everyone of the chocieholics murmured in agreement.
I knew this situation was not good. Everyone was out of their chairs.
"Well, as you can see," the man in the pith helmet said with a grand gesture of his hand towards the giant salad, "there is plenty of salad for EVERYONE in this room, and no room for mutiny.
"Uh ohie," Weasil said looking around.
All the chocieholics started to move backwards in unison towards the wall furthermost away from the giant salad, as the Fat Farm Police started in our direction pushing the salad towards us. We shook our heads and murmured the word 'no' as we kept shuffling backwards. All of us except YOU. I was frankly surprised at this. You stood there by your chair, hands on hips as if saying, "Bring it on you freaks."
I was simply amazed and stopped me muttering and shuffling as you walked up to the giant salad, dragging your chair with you. The Fat Farm Police had stopped rolling it and were watching you as you positioned your chair next to it. You climbed up on the chair and then dove into the salad. Lettuce leaves flew everywhere as you ripped at them and threw them around the room. We chocieholics were shocked! Yes, what a courageous stance. Weasil rose the battle cry and we all left the safety of the far wall and ran to the forks and with forks raised, we charged the man in the pith helmet and the three Fat Farm Policemen. They quickly hoofed it to the door and just as we got there, they threw the chains on locking us in with THE SALAD!
We stood there looking at each other. This was not what we wanted. We were sobered from our bewilderment by you calling out for help.
"Someone get me outta here before I suffocate in this crap!" Your muffled voice could be heard but barely.
We all ran to the bowl but it was too big and we couldn't reach you. You were squirming somewhere in the middle and were complaining about tomato stains when Weasil got the brilliant idea to lift one side of the bowl and dump you out. There was a blur of green, red, and YOU as the bowl dumped its contents all over the floor.
You sat there with a huge lettuce leaf on your head, and I thought you were bleeding until I saw the squished tomato seeds running down your back. I was relieved I have to tell you. Death by lettuce would have been a terrible way to go!
"Wadda we do nowie?" Weasil said, as I helped you up.
You brushed the veggies off and went for the bottle dressing. We could see the man in the pith helmet and his cohorts watching through the glass doors.
"Okay you guys sweep that crap up into one big pile, we are about to make lettuce mache'." You announced holding a bottle of French dressing high in the air.
I glanced at the door and could see the big eyes of the Fat Farm employees as they read your lips. They started struggling with the lock to open the door. Weasil's sharp eyes caught the action and he led five other chocieholics to the door to keep it closed.
The rest of us worked feverishly to pile up the lettuce, you started shaking the French dressing all over the greens while the rest of us mixed. Then you got another bottle, yes, the Thousand Islands was next and again you poured and we mixed, until you had every bottle emptied and we had one sticky, messy lettuce mache'.
"Wee zel," you cried, "stand back we are going to lob that door."
Weasil and company ducked as we threw handfuls of the salad at the door. We glued the sucker shut and when we were sure it was secure we high fived each other. BUT our high didn't last very long when we realised we had glued ourselves in the windowless room. DRAT!
End of part 4
Copyright © 2007 All rights reserved
