+ The Moral of the First Story +

[pig_and_pepper]

[ A transmission, you see, must be like a song: Voice and instruments alike, playing its tune. Her instruments are the pans and pots, the clinking and clacking, the bubbling and boiling, the rustling of pages from the book of recipes in her hand. Truth be told, this particular song may be a little out of tune. ]

Mustard, custard, cream of eel. Salt and pepper, same old-- herrings?

[ Her eyes frantically dart across the pages- ] No, no, no! [ -searching line after line for the origin of this atrocity. ]

Here. 'Twas the wrong page in the right book, and you-- [ The Duchess turns sharply and glares, glares at-- at you. ] --could not even think to tell me sooner!

[ She rips page after page from her book, and stuffs them all into a big pot. ] Of course I'll start again, what choice do I have? But you had better do better this time!

Comments

psh, what is this late you speak of?

[pig_and_pepper]

You are entirely correct, good man! Entirely and completely accurate in your observation, I admire you for it, truly!

[ The cooking has, at least on her part, since culminated in arranging a yellow-ish mush of pages, pens and other assorted travesties on a flowery plate. ]

I am the Duchess, if it pleases you to ask. And if it displeases you, why, I never said a word!

Re: psh, what is this late you speak of?

[paper_knight]

Of course it pleases me.

[Asking generally does.]

What's that you've made?

[pig_and_pepper]

A mess, I should fear, a frightful mess! [ She looks down at the plate, expression glum. ] Admission is the first step towards recovery, that, my good friend, I believe to be a lie. Or else, what second step does one take to recover a lost meal?

[paper_knight]

You can always get more ingredients.