Friday, 21 December 2012

Cook has finally lost her marbles

I'm sorry to report that Cook has been taken away by the men in white coats to the nearest psychiatric unit.   

No, it's NOT a photograph of faded glamour-trash, LADY VAGINA, although you'd be forgiven for thinking that.  This is a photo of an octopus.
 I discovered her in the kitchen this morning, with a live octopus on her head, walking around stark naked.  She claims she was in the process of making me a special Christmas milkshake, made from octopus.  You will recall that she was responsible for a series of culinary perversions at one of my banquets at my former estate in Wiltshire, but I had given her another chance to mend her ways.

This is the second member of my household that I have had to 'dispatch' in the past few days.  It is turning out to be the silly season.
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  1. How wonderful to have a full front of house cast. I only have the one, maid-of-all-work Carmen, who I've had in my charge for many years. As dwellers under one roof, One ought to shut it's doors upon the servants quarters, that side of the boundary should be invisible and inaudible at all times, the lady of the house making a visit to Cook in the kitchen is the equivalent of purchasing those dinted tins and packets of hair dyes from the discounted shelf at Morrisons. Think of the cross contamination between your world and that of toil, grease and grime. *shudders*

    1. My dearest Mitzi, I know exactly what you mean. On the rare occasion I descend to the Servants' Quarters - located in the basement - I develop what I can only describe as an other-worldly sensation, reminiscent of the Primark / Lidl / Aldi generation. Still, my staff can't complain as most of their cells now have concrete floors, with straw for bedding; some cells even have running water and one even has a window with an intact pane of glass in it (although not all cells have glass in the windows, of course, as this depends on staff ranking). Their welfare concerns me greatly. Fanny x