|
Some things are best left to the imagination...
Thursday, October 09, 2003So anyway, I write this scene, today, where the heroine decides to make lunch. She looks around, decides she wants tuna fish. She doesn't have any mayo, but she does, lo and behold, have Arby's Horsey Sauce (a creamy horse radish flavored thing...it's perfectly smooth, no root flecks like in the real thing) packets from dinner a night of so ago. So she mixes the Horse radish sauce with the tuna. So, later, the protagonist of these here web pages is looking around for something to eat. She decides she wants tuna. She does, actually, have a big whopping industrial sized jar of Mayo. She also has, in the basket of condiments from restaurants, (Every dining room table needs one...why waste what they give you for free? And I'm not thieving, because I do all take out, so it's what they threw in the bag for me.) among the soy sauce, the ketchup, the cocktail sauce, two packets of Horsey Sauce. You know where I'm going, here. So I say to myself, "Huh. I wonder what it really tastes like?" I mix one packet with some tuna (don't worry, it's safe tuna) placing the rest of my tuna in oil in a small plastic container, for later. I toast some Italian bread. I decide to go whole hog and smear some sweet relish, just like usual, on the toast. The tuna smells vaguely acidic as I spread it on the toast. I take a deep bite. It was...it was... Vile. Disgusting. Down right hellishly nasty. In fact, several hours, multiple glasses of milk, and a decent sized dinner later I still can't get that burning, icky sensation out of my mouth. Of course, this means that that scene just *has* to go. In fact, I think I'll work harder on my fantasy story, where perhaps they eat tuna, but they aren't bizarre enough to mix it with anything besides mayo.... Permalink Cindy scribed this at 8:09 PM 0 comments |