A true spaghetti western!
Mr. Blud, AT Smokin, and Beefbrand were all sitting at a wild west saloon somewhere on the Texas plains. A 20 horse town, so to speak, with lots of gold mining, cattle ranging, and whiskey making. There was everything in this small plains town, to be contented with.... Yes, even, their spaghetti was the best in the west! So their trigger happy chef, proclaimed.
Mr Blud ordered up a meatball supreme, from Master Chef Trigger Happy. He dug deep down in the pot, and reached for the softest, juiciest meatballs! He fired them on top of the heapen helpin of spaghetti within minutes, and then slid the plate down carefully to the gunslinger from the north.
At Smokin asked for the hotest spaghetti sauce you could find! Al Dente, too! Only made from the hottest peppers from Mexico, and the hottest Chilis, he served up a scorchin, hot, sauce that could weld your lips shut if you just ate it too fast at once... Smokin was the gunslinger from the South. The Chef served him up a hot plate..
Beefbrand came from the east, and he wanted a good meat sauce. He was afterall, a rancher, and ranchers could tell a good cut of beef from a bad one. The Chef dug down deep into another pot of sauce, and they all watched as the metal spoon bent, under the weight of the chunks of meat that fell heavily down the plate. A healthy serving, he sent it over to the man who twitched his upper lip every so often...
The first one to take a bit out of the plate, was Mr. Blud. He took a bite into his huge meatball, and nearly choked on a piece of bone in the mixture. A server there hit him in the back, as a sharp bone flew on top of the bar countertop. He threw his spaghetti plate across the hall, and drew his 6 shooter, aiming it carefully at the Chef, who had his hand in the pot of meatball sauce.
"I broke a tooth, Chef. That there bone you forgot to take out, near killed me, if it were not for that young server that just hit my lower slipped disk in my back... My back feels great, but, your spaghetti sucks!"
Master Trigger looked at the disgruntled customer, as he took out an overly large meatball "I can give you a free meatball! This the largest in the pot, and you can pack some in a barf bag, if you cannot eat it all today!"
"I think you were really trying to kill me! And that is enough right there for me to make things right!" Just seconds before Blud could have a chance to pull the trigger, a bullet sound was heard coming from the huge meatball. Inside of it, was concealed, a 45 colt. Blud hit the ground, as the others laughed, and were just about to dig into their spaghetti dishes.
Beefbrand looked frustrated after chewing into his spaghetti "There is a horse here, in this spaghetti sauce! I was forced to eat horse when I was a kid, during my grandmothers depressions! I always rued those days, and here again, I find horse in my spaghetti.. And, it does taste probably, like a stolen one! One that was stolen from my herd!" Beefbrand slammed his spaghetti plate against the wall, as he drew on Chef Trigger.
Chef Trigger then put his hand inside of his pot of meat spaghetti. He reached for the cover "Come and taste it again. It is only because it got cold, that you talk so foolishly... Alright, there maybe a horses hoof in there... But I ground it up only for its gelatin, to keep your joints moving and working great during those hot days out on the range!"
BeefBrand yelled "Time for you to..." Just before he could finish his sentence, the pots cover flew towards his head, decapitating him, as blood from his neck hit the ceiling. "To die, you say?", as Chef Trigger than moved over to his pot of hot sauce.
AT Smokin laughed, as he swallowed some of the super hot spaghetti sauce that was just served up to him. His throat felt like fire stoked up and down its long way down to his stomach. Sweat beaded from his head, as he ran outside to the horses drinking trough, and drank until it was halfway empty. He then rushed back in with two guns held out from his sides, looking angrily at the Master Chef.
"You burned my throat, my stomach, and all of my boogers have melted out of my nose! What will I show those pretty gurls now, when I am out on the range! And that spaghetti was hard, like a nylon rope! What do you got to say to yourself, before I spill your spaghetti filled brains all over your whiskey counter?"
Master Trigger then scooped out a plate of spaghetti "That pasta was Al Dente, but if you are not from Paris, you would never understand"
"Time to die..." as AT Smokin just about fired his pistols, he seen a web of spaghetti fly and jam the triggers on his gun. The spaghetti was so tough, he could not fire the pistols. Then, a pot of spaghetti sauce flew over his head.. He drowned, in hot sauce, as he suffocated to the floor..
"No one makes sport of my spaghetti! Hear that, customers! Eat and be happy, pay for your plate, and ask for more, or you may just end up in a Spaghetti Western!", as Master Chef Trigger Happy was the best shot in the west!
Mr Blud ordered up a meatball supreme, from Master Chef Trigger Happy. He dug deep down in the pot, and reached for the softest, juiciest meatballs! He fired them on top of the heapen helpin of spaghetti within minutes, and then slid the plate down carefully to the gunslinger from the north.
At Smokin asked for the hotest spaghetti sauce you could find! Al Dente, too! Only made from the hottest peppers from Mexico, and the hottest Chilis, he served up a scorchin, hot, sauce that could weld your lips shut if you just ate it too fast at once... Smokin was the gunslinger from the South. The Chef served him up a hot plate..
Beefbrand came from the east, and he wanted a good meat sauce. He was afterall, a rancher, and ranchers could tell a good cut of beef from a bad one. The Chef dug down deep into another pot of sauce, and they all watched as the metal spoon bent, under the weight of the chunks of meat that fell heavily down the plate. A healthy serving, he sent it over to the man who twitched his upper lip every so often...
The first one to take a bit out of the plate, was Mr. Blud. He took a bite into his huge meatball, and nearly choked on a piece of bone in the mixture. A server there hit him in the back, as a sharp bone flew on top of the bar countertop. He threw his spaghetti plate across the hall, and drew his 6 shooter, aiming it carefully at the Chef, who had his hand in the pot of meatball sauce.
"I broke a tooth, Chef. That there bone you forgot to take out, near killed me, if it were not for that young server that just hit my lower slipped disk in my back... My back feels great, but, your spaghetti sucks!"
Master Trigger looked at the disgruntled customer, as he took out an overly large meatball "I can give you a free meatball! This the largest in the pot, and you can pack some in a barf bag, if you cannot eat it all today!"
"I think you were really trying to kill me! And that is enough right there for me to make things right!" Just seconds before Blud could have a chance to pull the trigger, a bullet sound was heard coming from the huge meatball. Inside of it, was concealed, a 45 colt. Blud hit the ground, as the others laughed, and were just about to dig into their spaghetti dishes.
Beefbrand looked frustrated after chewing into his spaghetti "There is a horse here, in this spaghetti sauce! I was forced to eat horse when I was a kid, during my grandmothers depressions! I always rued those days, and here again, I find horse in my spaghetti.. And, it does taste probably, like a stolen one! One that was stolen from my herd!" Beefbrand slammed his spaghetti plate against the wall, as he drew on Chef Trigger.
Chef Trigger then put his hand inside of his pot of meat spaghetti. He reached for the cover "Come and taste it again. It is only because it got cold, that you talk so foolishly... Alright, there maybe a horses hoof in there... But I ground it up only for its gelatin, to keep your joints moving and working great during those hot days out on the range!"
BeefBrand yelled "Time for you to..." Just before he could finish his sentence, the pots cover flew towards his head, decapitating him, as blood from his neck hit the ceiling. "To die, you say?", as Chef Trigger than moved over to his pot of hot sauce.
AT Smokin laughed, as he swallowed some of the super hot spaghetti sauce that was just served up to him. His throat felt like fire stoked up and down its long way down to his stomach. Sweat beaded from his head, as he ran outside to the horses drinking trough, and drank until it was halfway empty. He then rushed back in with two guns held out from his sides, looking angrily at the Master Chef.
"You burned my throat, my stomach, and all of my boogers have melted out of my nose! What will I show those pretty gurls now, when I am out on the range! And that spaghetti was hard, like a nylon rope! What do you got to say to yourself, before I spill your spaghetti filled brains all over your whiskey counter?"
Master Trigger then scooped out a plate of spaghetti "That pasta was Al Dente, but if you are not from Paris, you would never understand"
"Time to die..." as AT Smokin just about fired his pistols, he seen a web of spaghetti fly and jam the triggers on his gun. The spaghetti was so tough, he could not fire the pistols. Then, a pot of spaghetti sauce flew over his head.. He drowned, in hot sauce, as he suffocated to the floor..
"No one makes sport of my spaghetti! Hear that, customers! Eat and be happy, pay for your plate, and ask for more, or you may just end up in a Spaghetti Western!", as Master Chef Trigger Happy was the best shot in the west!
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