Archive for X-Factor

Out ta get me …

Posted in food, Humour, life, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on October 24, 2008 by norvenmunky

That’s probably what the poor girl in Planet Sandwich thinks, the look on her face on Friday as Nm MkII again tore the @rse out her world, with the biggest Cheshire Cattest grin that would have had Lewis Carroll reaching for the valium. Not that MKII meant to do it of course, sort of a ‘stuff happens’ moment.

Picture the scene again, we’re running late, NM only just grasping on to the metaphorical ledge, and valiantly resisting a short sharp guided tour through the garden of the english language, as he attempts to ‘child herd’ small humans with no fecking idea of the complexities of the gregorian calender. Or a clock. ‘Planet Sandwich’ was going to have to get turned over again in the quest for that most elusive of quarry, lost time.

Now the door handle to Planet Sandwich is a bit loose, or to be more accurate, it’s ‘cattled’. Nm MKII, the Gingham clad maveric failed to grasp this fact, or indeed the handle, with the result that the door smashed wide open, all it really needed was Reagan and Carter yelling ‘Shut it yewslaaags’, ‘You!, Gechercloveson,yaw nicked!’

Well you could of heard a pin drop, I say you could of, but it would have been masked by the cacophany as assorted parish magazines, menus and local tradesmens cards headed south. Satisfied with a suitably dramatic ‘arrival’ MKII strode purposely centre stage and made eye contact gunfighter style with the ‘Fillingslinger’ behind the counter. There was a glint of recognition from the Fillingslinger, whom this time was dressed for battle, bright blue plastic hat, apron and similar coloured elbow length gloves, presumably for ‘deep filling’. Not sure why they need elbow length gloves, perhaps some ingredients were going to be particularly ‘fresh’. So Nm MkI made her choice efficiently as usual, and then it was MkII’s turn again to step up to the plate.

The malevolent glare from across the counter indicated that the Fillingslinger had evolved to be as bright as she needed to be, and going for the pre-emptive and surly ‘I know what you want’ service, picked an egg and crushed it on the work surface, ready to use. At this exact moment the Guvner of the shop appeared, as if by magic, to see nothing going on, his employee, arms folded and looking pretty pleased with herself, an egg, best described as smeared across her work surface, clearly by herself, and a small child asking for ham and cheese.

Well in terms of malevolent glares, Mr Benn pulled an ’11’ straight out of the bag, directing it at the Fillingslinger who wilted quickly and white flagged ‘its not fair’, reverting to a catatonic trance like state, dreaming of the day when she’ll win X-factor, and will no longer be mentally challenged by the vagaries of a six year olds sandwich filling.
She’ll get her 15 seconds of fame as she murders U2’s ‘I still haven’t found what I’m looking for’, cruelly chosen by a frustrated member of the production team, who couldn’t get an egg mayo sandwich, down to an unexplained shortage of eggs…