Sunday, August 20, 2006

the hunt was good; the gods are pleased

Know this: many a raviolum died on August 19, 2006. With narrowed eyes, we watched them gather against us; with grim hearts, we listened to their stirring speech--

Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'

They charged us, the ravioli horde, valiant and doomed; we threw tomato sauce on them, and cast parmesan cheese in their midst to confuse them. With our weapons of steel, we cut open their bellies; creamy white innards mingled with blood-red sauce as raviolum after raviolum was speared and carried skyward, there to meet a horrifying death in the form of slashing fangs, whipping tongues, and ravening gullets.

In the end, we ate every last one of them.


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