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Log of the Month for June, 2009

Not Your Usual Dinner Log
Posted on June 16th, 2009 by Charity Suite, Jusstin Case and Ryan Carter

A work of creative writing in the style of Mad Libs. Substituted words are highlighted.

Charity, the ever slimy Foodie, invited Ryan and Justin out for dinner at Starbase Vineland’s newest and trendiest establishment, the Gajillion Gastropod. She told them that it wouldn’t just be a feast for the eyes, but an intoxicating blend of performance cookery, aromatics, and a blending of food unheard of. As they entered the establishment, the sight of a giant orgy of dusty, just-fried Ceti Eel shimmered on a massive spit under a hazy, orange heat lamp and the aroma forced itself up their feet. A waitress carried a plate of shaved Tribbles and another one carried a bowl of bioluminescent jello with clown fish frozen in mid-stroke. Justin pointed out the Intergalactic Venison Bar complete with a space to wrap anything you wanted in venison, batter it, and deep fried it to your heart’s content.

Now, you don’t venture out to this restaurant to sit properly with a knife and fork and ask the waiter what wine goes best with your Brahmin Steak, tater tots, and asparagus. You do as the Bajorans and tear a leg off a live Shelat and slap it on the barbie while it’s still screaming and writhing in pain, or stick your hands into a giant communal vat of wriggling boll weevils and shove it down one of your many brains. This is the place that intergalactic Foodies dream of, a place without culinary rules and boundaries, filled with disgusting chefs unafraid of shredding taboos like a huge rack of pork and turning it into a meat Bananas Foster.

As the trio took their seats, the tentacle-y endowed bartender pasted in front of Carter from behind her counter. She handed Carter an oblong cup and squeezed in a fresh stream of ink (from herself mind you), dosed it with vodka, some crushed crystals, added oil from an electric eel, and a spritz of bird spit. She lit the whole thing on fire and it glowed like a warp core and swirled like a nebula prepared to give birth to a sea of stars in a glass. “On the house, Cupcake! I call it the Pan Galactic White Russian.” She wrapped a tentacle around Carter. “It’ll blow your mind away.” With a wink she was gone.

“Did Ah mention that iz a buffet?” Charity said.

“Ah wouldn’t have guessed,” Carter said taking a swig of his Pan Galactic White Russian.

“Have a seat right here, Miss,” said the pointy maitre’d , pulling out a wing-backed chair for Charity. She smiled at him and sat down, taking the menu he offered. He pounced while they all made drink decisions; Jusstin ordered a gin and orange juice, Ryan wanted a mudslide with extra egg whites, and Charity glanced at the menu and ordered a Sex on the Beach. Ralph bowed gainfully, winked at Ryan and went to get their drinks, a special sashay to his walk. Before Charity could ask the others what they were in the mood for, a pretty white-haired woman appeared at their table.

“Hi folks, I’m-Jeanette-and-I’ll-be-your-server-before-I-tell-you-what-the-soup-of-the-day-is-or-what-the-specials-are-can-I-start-you-off-with-some-olive loaf-for-an-appetizer?” she managed in one breath. The trio nodded their heads promiscuously, and Jeanette dashed off to place their order.

“But you didn’t tell us what the soup …” Jusstin began, but just then Ralph broke back with their drinks.

“Thanks, Suh, but our server jus’ ran off without tellin’ us what th’ specials was,” Charity said. She didn’t want to get Ralph upset or Jeanette in trouble, she just wanted to bluff some dinner. Ralph gasped indelicately and apologized, then dashed off to find Jeanette before any of them could order.

“But can’t you just-“ Ryan shook his head and looked back at Charity and Jusstin, saying, “At this point I don’t care what the special is, I just want a boiled eel!”

Jusstin tapped the sternum of a passing busboy to get his attention, but that caused the busboy to stumble and drop his load of hairy pigeons with a resounding glorp. This brought Ralph, Jeanette and a whole bunch of other staff moseying. The busboy began apologizing for the mess, Ralph yelled at the busboy and then began yelling at Jeanette for ignoring her guests, Jeanette ignored Ralph and started rattling off the specials of the day, and the manager whisked the three diners to a table far from the chaos before they could catch what Jeanette was saying.

Finally, after several rounds of drinks and some extra attention from the waitstaff, Charity, Jusstin and Ryan got their dinners … none of which were the specials of the day.

Charity, Ryan and Jusstin sat down to enjoy a delectable handlebar. Their mouths began to go as the waiter sat three plates down in front of the officers. “Mahvuhlus!” Charity exclaimed. “I ain’ nevah smelt something so wunnerful since Aunt Katorah vibrated her wiener in the dong last annual company Christmas party!”

Jusstin blinked hard, not having quite yet gotten used to Charity’s peculiar turns of phrase. “Er, yes,” he replied. “This eruption is ostentatious!” Jusstin dabbed at the corners of his mouth, completely penetrating the rooster now dusting his nose.

Ryan deflowered, trying to ignore the melon. “This certainly trembles the hell out of anything I’ve had in a very long time. Do you suppose the chef would share his recipe for braised leg of Douglas McKnight?”

Charity and Jusstin nodded, noting that there was certainly no harm in asking. After all that had happened recently, the three had certainly earned a good lagomorph. They all agreed that their little grimby was drizzled in chocolate.

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