Magnus the Busboy, Part 8

Part 8

Yes. It is true. Behind the bar, set apart, there exists, at the WG Bar and Grill, a secret area where the food is prepared for human or proto-human consumption. This area is called, the kitchen. This so called kitchen is vast with lots of equipment. There are measuring devices, there are ovens, there are grills, there are ice boxes, there are sinks, there is cutlery of every kind and description, there are pots of almost every volume, there are skillets, there is a cauldron. There is also plenty of cheap labor to operate all the equipment. Often one cheap laborer may operate a piece of equipment by itself, but sometimes, in complex food preparation situations, the cheap labor must gang up on one piece of equipment, to prep the desired food product up to Lady Arianrhod’s exacting standards.

The cauldron is of special significance. That is because, the creamed corn is cooked in that particular cauldron. That cauldron is big. It is so big, that four cheap laborers are required to operate that cauldron by themselves. For example, the spoon those cheap laborers employ to stir the creamed corn is in reality a galley oar left over from when the First Ark Druid brought the Gift of Pigs. The First Ark Druid actually presented the WG with that oar personally, many moons ago. So besides Twrch Trwth, the WG also got an oar.

Yes. Above the cauldron is constructed four tiers of steel latticework with a ladder ascending to the fourth tier. That way, each cheap labor component has its own level from which to grasp the oar. It takes a mighty effort, from all four cheap labor components, just to stir all that creamed corn, once the creamed corn thickens.

At last, the quartet of elderly Druids, plus Magnus, herded along by the beautiful Blodeuwedd actually navigated both the porch and the crack. Yes. Everyone made it into the dining and gaming area safely. Is this huge pig friendly?, was the first thing one of the elderly Druids wanted to know.

Twrch Trwyth was in a bad mood. Remember, the WG had sent Twrch Twryth inside, denying Twrch Trryth’s instinctual urge to mix it up with all those ferocious little dogs. So Twrch Trwyth spake sarcastically, thusly: Elderly Druids, you see before you a house pig. If you could think for yourselves, ever, you would know that a house pig is always friendly. Otherwise, that pig would not be in the house.

It talks, exclaimed all the elderly Druids excitedly. O h my goodness, this establishment has a talking pig. Can you beat that! Darn it! I left my digicam in the cart. I need to go fetch my digicam. We can make a movie featuring all of us with this talking pig.

Twrch Trwyth was at that nonce, in a worse mood than previously. Hearing himself, a huge pig standing right in front of these elderly Druids, referred to in the third person, no, not even in the third person, referred to as, it, infuriated Twrch Trwyth. Great hackles of bristles arose all over Twrch Trwyth. His mighty tail spiked upwards corkscrew like. A bucket of froth issued forth from his mighty gullet, slathering Twrch Trwyth’s lips and gums.

Do you not know me, elderly Druids, I am the mighty Twrch Trwyth, not just a mere talking pig?

Naturally, all the elderly Druids knew about Twrch Trwyth. Everyone, in fact, except the village idiots, maybe, knew about Twrch Trwyth. But the elderly Druids were skeptical.

You are definitely not Twrch Trwyth. Though large, you are certainly nowhere near the volume of four double wides. We Druids know such facts, all righty then. Ha!

Luckily for those elderly Druids, the beautiful Blodeuwedd was handy and paying attention.

Elderly Druids and potential paying customers. You find yourselves in grave peril. You have aroused the WG’s pet, the mighty Twrch Trwyth. See. He is about to attack.

The elderly Druids, as one indistinguishable unit., recoiled in confusion, slightly horrified. Yet, the elderly Druids remained skeptical. But, but, but, but, all the facts indicate this can not be Twrch Trwyth. This pig, though large, is too little.

Fortunately for the skeptical elderly Druids, mired in misinformation, and not willing to take Blodeuwedd’s word for the correct identity of the pig, that same Blodeuwedd clasped her plump arms around the neck of the outraged pig. She then whispered into Twrch Trwyth’s ear, Oh mighty One, you may not afflict these potential paying customers here, within the Gaming and Dining Area. However, you may afflict them elsewhere. For the nonce, you need a plan for afflicting them elsewhere later if you so desire, later, outside. So my suggestion is, go drink some nice beer out of your trough, and work up a plan if you so desire, for later. (Blodeuwedd knew that Twrch Trwyth, was intelligent, like most pigs, but also, She knew that planning ahead was not his strong suite. So the elderly Druids were fairly safe. Twrch Trwyth would most likely forget all about them once he guzzled down plenty of beer).

Twrch Trwyth was mollified. Yes. I shall go have some nice beer. Then I shall work up a plan.

Goodness! That was close. That pig almost cost me a potential tip!, thought the beautiful Blodeuwedd. But she spake out loud, Elderly Druids, pick out a table that suits you, have a seat, you must be weary from your journey. Once you are settled in, I shall bring menus, plus take your libation orders.

When do we get our complimentary checklists?, the elderly Druids wanted to know.

I shall bring them along with your libation orders.

For long the elderly Druids consulted on which table might suit them best. Since all the tables were empty, this took awhile.

Come with me Magnus. We need to visit with Granny while these elderly Druids decide where to sit.

Magnus obediently tagged along.

Granny, the nearly omnipotent WG, known to her friends as Cerridwen, was temporarily retired to her boudoire, recovering from all it took out of Her to suspend space and time out in the front yard. Yet the boudoire of the WG is not just any boudoire. Her boudoire is really cool. That’s because She has easy access to all the good things of life in Her boudoire. So it is easy to relax in that particular boudoire.

Granny. I am already tired of those unusual potential paying customers. They almost killed Magnus. They are slow as molasses. They probably don’t tip. They enraged our pet watch pig, twice. I say we kick them out. To heck with those elderly Druids. Anyway, the regular paying customers shall be arriving anon. We know they are reliable tippers.

Hmmm. What about you Magnus? Do you wish to kick those elderly Druids out, too, denying them the hospitality of this establishment?

I agree with Ms. Blodeuwedd. Three times those elderly Druids have promised to give me a silver dollar for my services. Yet, I can not, in my mind’s eye, identify which of those three out of that quartet promised me silver dollars. Then too, I must remind them that I need those silver dollars for my services rendered. Yet I can not tell one from another. So I shall probably never see those silver dollars. Also, may I somehow ingratiate myself with you, magnificent WG, that you should consent or encourage me to, ah, never mind.

No, no, no Magnus. What should I consent to? How should I encourage you?

Never mind, please.

OK Magnus. Well, since you both agree that we should kick those elderly Druids out, I shall tell you a story that may redirect your simple young noggins. Once upon a time, believe it or not, there were no Druids. At that time, not long ago, no being anywhere had more sense regarding anything or anybody, other than themselves, than a squirrel humping a tree branch.

Yes, it is true. The top of the heap, sense wise, in those days, had no more sense than squirrels. Plus those beings acted pretty much like squirrels, monkey shining around in the trees with nary a care in the world or a lick of sense. But change is inevitable. Finally, one of those monkey shiners was born, mutated. However, that first mutated monkey shiner showed no Druid like traits. No, that mutated monkey shiner merely got the rest of the monkey shiners better organized so that efficiency came about.

Anon, there was so much efficiency that one of the monkey shiners noted that it had actual leisure time on its little paws or hands. That one became the first monkey shiner with Druid like characteristics. Mutation followed mutation. For some reason, that I have never quite figured out, the Druid like traits persisted in the gene pool, albeit in low numbers. And that quartet of elderly Druids, now ensconced in the Dining and Gaming Area, consulting among themselves about the best place to sit, is the culmination of those mutations played out on the leisurely tapestry of the monkey shiner lifestyle.

So, do you twain still want to kick them out?

Yes, we do!!!!

Nevertheless, we shall not kick them out. They are potential paying customers. Potential paying customers are always right. So Blodeuwedd, you need to put on your best waitress attitude, and Magnus, you need to skulk around until some useful activity is required of you. Now get to work.

Yes Maam!!!!