When I opened the oven door, I expected to be faced with either a blast of flames, and smoke, and a still live (yet skinless and headless) burning duckling … slithering out onto the kitchen floor. Or! I figured I might be hit with a blast of flames and find the wide expanse of Hell opening up before me. Ol’ Damnation himself would delicately be pushing a red gondola across a Lake of Fire, with his stick-paddle thing. Thankfully, I found the duckling browned, and dripping juices. Things were working out just fine.
We listened to Doom Metal, and Power Violence during dinner. There’s nothing like Electric Wizard to set the mood for a holiday dinner. Faced with the task of fulfilling my duty as Head Chef guy, I prepared myself before mutilating (“carving”) the duck. Bones and tendons snapped, as I plunged my knife in, missing all the right spots. Everyone was thoroughly disgusted: Mantooth coughed up his soup. Pusha-T refused to talk to me for the rest of the night. Rrrrtmnd realized that the carnage would pass, and asked for the booze.
A swell evening, duck, noir, and Spider-Man II.
Justin
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