wiganworld   (Feedback, help, your ideas for new content.)

Theres nowt wrong with Yorkshire puddings.

Those poor frogs must have a mouthful.

Speaking of frogs;

Your Blackadder Cook link didn't seem to work jo anne. Did you mean the famous Mrs Miggins?

She knew how to cook frogs.

Edmund: Ah, good morning, Mrs Miggins.

Miggins: Bonjour, monsieur.

Edmund: What?

Miggins: Bonjour, monsieur -- it's French.

Edmund: So is eating frogs, cruelty to geese and urinating in the street,
but that's no reason to inflict it on the rest of us.

Miggins: But French is all the fashion! My coffee shop is full of
frenchies, and it's all because of that wonderful Scarlet
Pimpernel. [an odd squishy noise is heard occasionally,
starting now]

Edmund: The Scarlet Pimpernel is >not< wonderful, Mrs Miggins. There is
no reason whatsoever to admire someone for filling London with
a load of garlic-chewing French toffs crying "Oh la la!" and looking
for sympathy all the time just because their fathers had their heads
cut off.

I'll have a cup of coffee and some shepherd's pie, please.

Miggins: [put off] We don't serve >pies< anymore! My French clientele
consider >pies< uncouth.

Edmund: I hardly think that a nation that eats snails and would go to bed
with the kitchen sink if it put on a tutu is in any position to
preach couthness.

So what >is< on the menu? [he picks up the small menu and flips it
over looking at it casually]

Miggins: Well, today's hot choice is Chicken Pimpernel in a Scarlet Sauce,
Scarlet Chicken in a Pimpernel Sauce, or Huge Suspicious-Looking
Sausages in a Scarlet Pimpernel Sauce.

Edmund: What exactly is Scarlet Pimpernel sauce?

Miggins: [she uses her hands to demonstrate as she speaks] You take a large
ripe frog, squeeze it [one of the squishy noises is heard as she
makes this motion, giving away what the noise is] --

Edmund: [putting up a hand] Yes, yes, all right. [several words are covered
entirely by laughter (anyone out there have a closed-caption decoder,
since the commercial-release tapes are closed-captioned?).]

[Edmund goes to the door to leave, just as a Frenchman enters.]

Frenchman: [bowing] Ah, bonjour, monsieur!

Edmund: Sod off.

Blackadder III (Nob And Nobility)