Peeny’s big mistake

As you will recall from the last post I recently hired a new apprentice at the Bistro named Big Peeny.

Well, I have some sad news… Peeny was killed in a horrible execution yesterday. It’s a long story, so I will try to explain it to you.

It was another late night at the bistro, and, as usual, every customer had ordered the gumboot sirloin. I had Big Peeny running to the fridge and grabbing the sirloins and I was roasting them up in the big gumboot pressure cooker. Finally, Peeny came up to me looking like he’d just stepped in a piece of poopy and eaten it accidentally.

“Err boss… we’ve run out of gumboots”

I looked at Peeny for a moment.

“Run out? But that’s impossible! We only have one more to go!!!”

We both pondered what we could do. I spotted a packet of jelly crystals nearby and had a great idea.

“Ok then Peeny, here’s a plan”

I explained the plan the Peeny, and he headed off to the bathroom. Meanwhile, I started to prepare the jelly. It was a strawberry jelly, one of my favourite flavours.

Peeny returned carrying some fresh faeces in his hands. He plopped them into the jelly mixture. Then I added some kidney beans and corn kernels from a can. Peeny added some chopped spinach. I added some sour cream. Peeny added a frozen turkey.

I stirred this mixture together and poured it into the pressure cooker. In a few moments, the fake gumboot was ready.

“Ok Peeny, take this to table 65″

Peeny grabbed the plate with one hand. With his other he held a spotted kerchief to his nose to avoid the foul foul odour of rotting turd.

Sadly for Peeny, he tripped over on a banana peel and landed head first into the awful fake gumboot liquid. The bowl attached itself to his head perfectly. I heard a desperate sucking noise and Peeny tried in vain to pry the poopy filled plate from his face!

“I’ll save you, Peeny!” I cried, grabbing my trusty .45 magnum. I shot the plate 4 times. It shattered and fell to the ground, along with globs of Peeny’s brain and cranial matter.

I decided to head home.

Health Inspection (Part Two)

After leaving Pedro in charge as the head waiter, and promoting Pooba to rank of sous chef, I returned to the meat freezer where I had left McPenry a few minutes earlier, minus his testicles. He was still alive – just – in the negative 40 degree chill of the freezer.

‘So, still think I’m a fool?’ I asked him, still seething over the health inspector’s eariler comment.

McPenry writhed in slow agony on the ground on the freezer, frozen icicles of blood clinging to the void between his legs. Disgusted by the sight, I decided the time had come to put him out of his misery, and I decapitated him with the aid of an icy meat hook. McPenry was no more.

I quickly stripped the corpse and donned McPenry’s regulation health inspector outfit. It was a bit loose, given the extra large nature of the garments designed to suit McPenry’s tubby frame, but other than that it was a good fit. I collected the inspection clipboard, filled with dark crosses. Finally, I trimmed off some of McPenry’s hair from his decapitated head and pasted it over my hair. I returned to the kitchen to witness Pooba’s stunned expression.

Satisfied that my disguise had fooled Pooba, I left the restaurant through the back door and progressed rapidly through the alleyway to the subway station. On the way, I observed a blind man taking a piss against some garbage cans. Normally I have nothing against blind people, but this was an obscene act to take part in near a restaurant. Luckily for me the man was blind, so he didn’t notice as I picked up a set of garden shears lying conveniently nearby and carefully trimmed the offending body part off the blind man. He was mildly peturbed by the intrusion into his urination ritual.

I reached the subway station and boarded a train to the health inspector’s offices, located two stops away. Nobody gave me a second glance as I was dressed in McPenry’s regulation inspector outfit, although the blood and semen stains covering the jacket did raise a few eyebrows in the elevator. I reached McPenry’s personal office and found a sheet to replace the one which was covered in black crosses. I carefully placed the new version (filled with ticks) into McPenry’s in tray. My work here was done.

As I left the building, I felt a buzzing in my pocket. It was McPenry’s phone! I took it out and answered the call, trying to imitate McPenry’s girly voice.

‘Hi, Henry McPenry speaking’ I said.

‘McPenry you fag, I need you to make sure the Bistro fails the health and safety test. If they aren’t closed down within a week, I’ll have your balls’ said a voice, before suddenly disconnecting.

‘Too late’ I said.