My Boyfriend Has Just Brought Home A Lobster To Eat (Part 2)

[DTCwordfan]

[i] A Phone Call to the Cornish Lobster Samaritans Society, Salcombe, Sunday pm, 4 o’clock/5 yesterday for those of you who haven’t changed their clocks yet. After all this is an advice line.[i]



“Hello?”

“Hello., It’s Erica here, from Mylor, on the Carrick Straights near Falmouth in Cornwall.”

“Yes, I do know where Mylor and Cornwall are, Erica. What can I do for you?”

“It’s me bloody boy-friend, he’s brought home this enormous thing – it looks like a dinosaur fossil I saw at the Truro Museum called a Tribulite.”

“Yessssss?”

“Its huge and got big clawy pincer things and little eye balls on stalks. What am I supposed to do with it as Tremain wants to eat it, saying I should cook it in Rattler Cider?”

“So it’s a Lobster then?”

“I think so”

“Is it alive?”

“Cause it is. It’s horrible and it’s looking at me and listening to me every word.”

“And so, where did he get this lobster?”

“He got it from a Pot I’m told, from sum pottie thing in the River….out there dolphin fishin with his mate, Norm the Tinner.”

“So is it legal?”

“No idea mate? How do I cook it then?”

“Best way is with a sharp knife, behind its eyes and pull back down the spine. Both halves may walk around for a few seconds.”

“Me Sabatiers ain’t sharp enough, blunt as his bloody ‘ed, they are.”

“Then into a pot of boiling water and it’ll cook – may sing like Adele though for a few minutes as the air leaves the head socket. It’s only got a pea brain.”

“I’m not cooking something that pees in its brain!”
“Well then, freeze it for ten and then do the boil, it won’t sing.”

“But it will be frozen then like a bloody iceberg – and I only put me ice in a voddie.”

“Oh well – just chuck it on the Barbie and once dead, open it take out its gut and fingers.”

“I have to chop off its fingies – no bloody way – next thing you will be telling me is to take its cock off.”

Pause

“Can me take it and put it back in the sea. I have it in’t bath at moment and I put a bottle of Tesco salt in there…”

“No I don’t think that will work as its been out of it’s home for too long. They’ve got to live in proper sea-water, you know.”

“C-water whats that? I’ve heard of hevvy water on that film from Norway – it was on telly and Tremain likes his war movies. He wants to be a bummer yer know.

“No, Sea water as what fish live in before they go to the fish and chipsshop”

“So’ve I, but me Tremain wants his supper like now or he won’t give it to me.”

“Oh look, get Tremain take to take it to your chippie and deep fry it, four minutes, like a Mars Bar.”

“Now yer talking mate.”

“Next time, if you have any questions or want more information, contact Answerbank. This is Mr. Ratter. Have a good evening.”

postscript, The Devon and Cornwall police turned up two hours forty-five later and asked whether they still had the lobster.

“Why, Bill, we’ve eaten it. All we hav’ is its bones and they are in the trash-bin now.”

Police exit, the real evidence and any ID bands having been eaten