Trying Again At The Recipe

Alright, what was in the thing I was going to cook yesterday? Tree nuts? Gluten? No, that would end up killing too many people. Why is everyone allergic to nuts and gluten all of a sudden? Time was, that’s all we would get for Christmas. Now, if aliens invade Earth, all they have to do is pepper the major landmasses with flour and peanuts, and this world becomes theirs. But not me. I’ll gladly eat the free peanuts falling from the sky. I’ll find a use for the flour. In the post-apocalyptic world, perhaps it will become a form of currency. I’ll invent some sort of vacuum device to suck all that grain dust from the lungs of the deceased, using peanut energy to propel me from body to body, siphoning the respiratory gold that lies within the airsac of each corpse. The remaining humans, those who haven’t swollen to death or sworn allegiance to the new alien government, will gladly follow my lead. But I won’t want to be their leader, and I won’t share the flour I have hoarded. So they’ll all disperse and kill each other off. Then it’s just me versus the otherworldly troika regime of Blandox 3000, Drunvalo 458,739,457, and The Everlasting Fluff, (Fluff has a different meaning on Ungerstudt, the oddly German-sounding planet these aliens hail from) the fate of Earth floating in the balance.

Maybe the recipe had alien poison in it?

Now that I mention it, I think the recipe actually did have something to do with both nuts and gluten: perhaps I do desire a dash to power after all, maybe a yearning for Armageddon. I don’t know.

While prepping for this post, I did find a ripped piece of paper, containing what I believe to be half of the recipe, with the words ‘pollen’ and ‘bee stings’ written on it. Beneath that it reads ‘marinate in cat hair and lactose juice.’ Hmmm. The missing half of that paper probably lists all the required seasonings, because what I have in front of me does not sound like it would please the palate.

Looks like I shot my wad early again. No recipe today. Sorry.