Let us imagine this scenario.
I am on holiday in Miami Beach. After a long flight from England, I cannot sleep so I am up early with the sunrise. Down on the beach I see a flabby lone figure jogging slowly towards me - huffing and panting like a wildebeest after a stampede.
I notice that he is wearing an elasticated red headband and that his hair is the colour of the morning sun glistening on the waves. As he gets closer, my lower jaw sags in disbelief. It can't be can it? But it is! It's Donald J. Trump - the forty fifth president of the USA.
Without any preliminary conversation or further ado, I challenge Trump to a fist fight on behalf of righteous people everywhere. With a "Thwack!" and an "Uggh!" and a "Crrrrunch!", it isn't long before I have Trump at my mercy. Pathetically, he is whining, "Please. No. I'm sorry!" but I show no mercy. My right arm circles like a windmill sail in a gale and I make one final almighty connection with Trump's chin.
He collapses like a sack of turnips onto the Miami sand, his skull connecting sickeningly with a big beach stone. In alarm, I slap Trump's podgy cheeks. They quiver but there is no response from The Leader of the Free World. His heavy breathing has ceased and in terrible fear. I realise that I have in effect assassinated him. It was not what I was expecting from a sunshine holiday in Florida. Hell, I suddenly realise, I will go down in history like Lee Harvey Oswald or John Wilkes Booth. I so much wanted to be a poet - not an assassin!
What can I do? The secret service guys who had been trailing Trump are already sprinting up the beach towards me. I run away and cower in a nearby parking lot. Now I am the one huffing and puffing like an exhausted wildebeest. And this is where the cops find me a few minutes later.
I raise my hands to the sky and plead "Don't Shoot!"
Months pass by as I languish in Florida State Penitentiary at Raiford near Jacksonville. Then one day the prison governor comes to my cell and tells me that I will be executed at the end of the week. President Pence has rejected all claims for clemency. "The sentence must be enacted! God's will must be done!" he announces in an interview with Fox News.
The governor, who is a kindly man, says that I can have any meal I choose the night before my electrocution and without hesitation I say, "A large battered cod, chips, mushy peas, a pot of tea and a slice of bread and butter from The Magpie Cafe in Whitby, Yorkshire!"
"It will be arranged," smiles Governor Scott patting my shoulder.
|Dinner in the legendary Magpie Cafe, Whitby on Thursday evening|
What would you choose for your very last meal?
Last meals. Probably similar but without the mushy peas. Then if I was in the Magpie, and halibut appeared on the menu I would have that instead with a side of their salads and new potatoes.ReplyDelete
I am sure The Magpie Cafe could secure a halibut specially for you Thelma! Your choice seems very sophisticated if I may say so. You must be a proper lady.Delete
A great big cromer crab, lemon mayonnaise and thinly sliced brown bread and butter. And for dessert, a coffee Renoir. All washed down with a glass or two of New Zealand sauvignan blanc.😀ReplyDelete
Oh yes...it has to be good sauvignon blanc from New Zealand. It is so much better than anything the French can produce. I have never heard of a coffee Renoir! Like Thelma above you must also be a very sophisticated lady Christina!Delete
Well, that was certainly a creative and roundabout way of getting to a post about a meal you enjoyed! LOL! Just for the sake of clarity about our judicial system, it would likely be years and years between your conviction and your actual execution. Governor Scott would in all likelihood be long gone. (Possibly still serving in the Senate, unfortunately.) I love that you actually looked up the location of the state pen -- although it's technically in Raiford, most people refer to it as Starke, which is the nearest town of any size. All the news reports from the state pen are always datelined Starke, because that's where the reporters are holed up in some cheap motel.ReplyDelete
You seem to know a lot about the American penal system Steve... possibly too much.Delete
I have an App on my computer that changes everything trump into kittens, I did not know that it would apply to blogs! So when Kittens showed up at the top of the page and you began to tell the tale of ridding the world of the toxic Orange gaz - I though that you mixed up your posts somehow. Uh oh, I thought, Mr. Pudding might be loosing grip...thank goodness that is not the case! Thank you for making my day with your tRUMP take down!ReplyDelete
As you are an American citizen, I am so pleased that you found mirth in my post and not offence Linda Sue.Delete
I have to step in here for a moment to thank Linda Sue for mentioning the Trump to kitten app. I did not know about that but I have found it and I'm now using it! Much nicer than the alternative - thank you Linda Sue!Delete
Now that is an interesting way to describe a favorite meal! Thanks for the laugh!ReplyDelete
I am happy that this post tickled you Bonnie!Delete
Okay, brother, I will bite (catch the pun, ??). My last meal would start with vodka with a lemon slice. Then I would order a plate loaded with all kinds of seafood and shellfish....lobster, shrimp both boiled and etouffee, crawfish, and a pound of halibut with drawn butter on a separate plate flown in fresh from Alaska. No bread, no salad, no sides. Just that. I would start very slowly with the halibut which was cooked to perfection and savor each lovely mouthwatering bite. Then, I would indulge in another glass of vodka and start on the shrimp and lobster. I would eat so hardily and so quickly that the warden and the guards would not dare electrocute me!ReplyDelete
You see, Mr. Pudding, I would have fooled them. I would already be dead! I have been deathly allergic to shellfish since I was twenty and carry an epi-pen with me everywhere.
That's a shocking twist at the end. I didn't know that.Delete
You have also introduced me to a new word - "etouffee"!
Did you try some Fortune's kippers?ReplyDelete
They were available for breakfast in our B&B Libby but I was committed to a full English and lovely it was too!Delete
I'm goin out hungry!ReplyDelete
I thought you might have wanted some Red meat with Red potatoes and Red cabbage.Delete
That bit where Don Cheeto apologises is just fanciful!ReplyDelete
You are right Kylie! That would never happen in real life.Delete
As I can never decide what to have on a menu until it is crunch time and the waiter/waitress is poised with pencil I suspect I would go to my death hungry.ReplyDelete
You should order a bowl of scouse!Delete