Man Make Fire Make Food!

"Stand aside, please, stand aside. Nothing to see here."


Were you thinking of going out today? I wouldn't if I were you. Stay indoors - it'll be safer.
You see, the sun is shining, the sky is clear over Small Town and so Pither is going to go for it................yes, it's barbecue time!!!

I've taken the dust sheet off the Flamimax 9000 and I'm going to pump that baby up later and toss on an assortment of animal carcasses. Now I know that, in addition to being a bit twee and suburban, having a barby is not exactly a big deal to the average person but, well, I'm not the average person. Me and barbecues have a bit of a history.
I identified the problem some years ago. It's all down to libations, you see. A few glasses of wine complement al fresco dining perfectly - all the manuals tell you so. What the manuals don't tell you, however, is that it is not particularly big or clever to hit the sauce about three hours beforehand and work your way through several bottles of Chateau Sheepdip before messing around with man's red fire!
The tug of the tincture has always been my failing when it comes to barbecuing, to such an extent that Large County's fire brigade and I came to an agreement some while ago.......If I gave up on barbecues they'd drop some of the outstanding prosecutions against me.
My big chum The Farmer is the barbecue king. He can rustle one up in minutes, dish out lashings of perfectly cooked goodies and have the flames out and everything packed away before you can say "Stamp on that fence someone, it's really starting to catch!"
I, on the other hand, can neither light a barby nor cook anything on it which does not result in a minibus to casualty for all my guests.
With that in mind, I have not had a barbecue for ages, certainly not this year. Also, I decided to never again pile up old furniture, faded copies of Razzle and sections of the lounge flooring to make my pyre. Instead, I invested in the unadventurous Flamimax to cut out the dangers should I ever feel the need to eat burnt sausages in the company of flies ever again.
Well, that time has come because, after a while, you get to miss eating food which
is incinerated on the outside but raw on the inside while sitting amid a cloud of insects and looking out on piles of dogshit on the lawn.
The Flamimax, as I said, has been unsheathed and the very-soon-to-be ex-Mrs Pither has been down to the butcher's to stock up on dead animals. Importantly, however, not a drop has passed my lips so far today and there are just four hours to go until firefood time - I'm sure I will last out.
Anticipation is in the air. The dogs have already taken themselves upstairs to crawl under my bed, the neighbours have locked all their windows and Mrs Pither has given me the customary lecture:

"It's not too near the fence, is it?"

"No, my soon-to-be-blackened one."

"You will make sure everything's cooked properly this time, won't you?"

"Aw! That takes all the fun out of it!"

"Be serious. I don't want a repeat of the last one. Dave and Jenny still aren't speaking to us, you know?"

"They'll come round. Anyway, I still say it wasn't my fault. There are loads of places you can pick up cholera."

"...and you won't drink too much, will you?"

"I shall be as one of the Temperance League."

"...and you won't have the sherry when the beer's gone?"

"The thought never even entered."

"You do know how to connect the gas bottle up properly, don't you?"

"Hell, I'll wing it! How many ways can there be for it to connect?"

"Oh God! Shall I ask Steve next door to come and connect it for you?"

"He's still not speaking to us either, remember?"









"Oh yes. Damn! That reminds me, Jane hasn't got her washing out, has she?"

"Not anymore!"

"Does it matter that the Flamimax is so near to the fish pond?"

"That's just one of the new safety features I've built in this time should there be, let's say, a problem."

"Can't we just go out for a curry? Please?"

Well, it's now just three hours and 50 minutes until firefood time and my resolve has started to crack. I think I'll just have a livener. After all, it will relax me and get me in the mood. Mrs P has moved all the wine but, unbeknown to her, I know where she's put it - it's at the end of the garage, under some tarpaulin.
Cheers to one and all and remember, don't open those windows or come outside until you hear the all-clear!