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Revenge of the Flora, Part 11

<Bifrost noises>  Whooooosh!

“It would appear, brother, that we have arrived none too soon.”

“Shut up, Thor.  If I hadn’t been wasting time rushing to your aid, we’d have been first on the scene.”

“Truly, Loki, I did not need your help.  I did not ask for your help!  Curse these pestilent vegetables!  They told you I was in trouble and you believed them!”

“And what does it say about you, “brother“, that when I heard you’d fallen into a vat of pop-tart filling and were going to drown— or else explode from trying to eat your way out, I never for a moment wondered if it wasn’t true?”

“Let us cease this bickering.  There is warriors’ work to do.”

“On that, we agree.  Unhand my beloved, you ursa-rosa  miscreant!”

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Make me.”

With great pleasure.”

Allow me, brother.  I shall make quick work of this one—”

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“While I introduce this yellow horror to my friend Gungnir.  Muffy, duck!”

Zap!  

Augh!

“Sigyn!

“Loki!”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m okay.  <sniffle> Oh, Loki!  We were just walking and suddenly there they all were, and we tried to get away and—-”

“Hush, my beloved.  Don’t cry.  You are safe now.  T’Challa, will you guard my sweetheart and yours while I help finish off the rest of these fiends?”

“Their lives shall be as my own.”

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“I don’t need ‘guarding!’  Have you forgotten I run a martial arts studio?

“Andizange ndilibale, luthando lwam, kodwa nceda—ndivumele ukuba ndibe luncedo.”

Bang!

Pow!

Oof!

Thud!

“You’ve met Thor, you sorry sack of mildewing pot-pourri, Asgard’s own Golden Boy.  Now meet the black sheep of the family, the Bad Son, the one who’s going to turn you into mulch.”

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Zap!  Zap!  Zap, zap, zap! Zap-zap-zap-zap-zap-zap!”

<whine>

(to be continued…)

 

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Revenge of the Flora, Part 10

Pow!

Whack!

“Augh!  Rosebear is up again!  I repeat–Rosebear is up again!

Thud!

Clang!

Zoooom!

<loud heavy metal music>

“Hey, Your Kittyness!  Looks like we’re both a little late to the party.”

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“Stark.”

“Looks like they could use our help.  From what I can see, Sigyn needs rescuing again, and Legolas is talking smack with a big peach.”

“Agreed.  We should help friend Hawkeye.  Good hunting, Stark.”

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“Grrr.  Elizweni lam, qhamo sazi indawo yaso.”

“Yo, Peach fuzz!  What’s your beef with my friends?”

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“Know what?  I don’t care.  You mess with my friends, you eat a repulsor blast.  Simple as that.”

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Zap!

“And now to play a little loves-me-loves me-not with Daisy Dukes over here.”

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“Wow.  Is that Rocket’s new ride?  Sweet!  I heard he was working on something.  I need to check that out–”

<Cap on comms>  “Stark!  Automotive geek out later, dammit!  Villain take-down now!

Language, Cap!”

Zoom!

Zap!

Pow!

(to be continued…)

Revenge of the Flora, Part 9

“Hey, Cap!  Heard you over the comms.  Need some help?”

“Sure thing, Widow.  I’ve got giant fruit bears over here and who knows what they’re capable of.”

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“Rocket!  Good job taking that rose-headed bear down!  Can you rescue Sigyn?”

“On it, Cap!”

“Cap–where do you want me?  I’m feeling a real need to wipe some smirks off some vegetation over here.”

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“Keep the daisies busy, Hawkeye, or see if you can get a handle on that giant peach.”

“You got it.  Man, stone fruit just should not be that big.”

“All right!   Time to make some masa out of this corn guy!”

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“And, um, Widow, did you do something new with your hair?”

“Yeah.  Not sure I’m going to keep it, though.”

“Looks good.”

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“We can swap beauty secrets later, Cap.  Right now I think I’ll whip up a little fruit salad. Хорошо, идиоты, кто из вас хочет умереть первым?”

(to be continued…)

私たちは生の魚の領土に戻ってきた

The humans have dragged us to the Big City to the West again, and wow–they have lost no time in rushing to the place with the sushi-go-round!  I would rather leave raw fish than take it, but Sigyn is excited.  She had such fun last time.

Remember, my love?  No riding the conveyor belt.  I mean it.  There’s no telling where you might end up, or who might snatch your cute little self off. Then I might have to hurt someone, and we’d get banned from ever coming back–and you know what that would mean:  No sesame balls full of sweet red bean goo.

You will just have to behave.

Speaking of… We seem to be beginning the same way we did last time.

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Grabby hands!  Sigyn thinks they are so soft and sweet that they’d be “comfy to snuggle down and rest in.”  Maybe?  At least you could have a little snack without having to get up and go to the kitchen.  Just turn your head and nibble…

Will wonders never cease!  The human female has ordered something different this time.  Fried…  Can you tell what it is, Sigyn?   Could be anything under that breading.

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(tentative taste)  Hmm.  Tastes like chicken.  Probably because it is chicken.   Not the best chicken I’ve ever had, but not bad.  Certainly no match for the tempura shrimp, though.

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Tails!  Tails are all that’s left.  You and I will have to order some shrimp of our own, Sigyn, because the glutton has left us just just the crustaceous hindmosts.

Just for that, human, I’m going to spoon a heaping helping of whatever-this-is on whatever you eat next.

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I saw you shudder as you shoved the little pot and spoon away from you, so I’m guessing it will make a very good mischief.

Well, many noshes and tidbits and morsels later, we have come nearly to the end of the gustatory excess.  There is *just* enough room left to squeeze in a bite of dessert.  Someone at the table has ordered these and is sharing.  Any idea what they are?  Whatever they are, they’re pale red and pale green, so we approve.

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Wait!  We’ve had these before, they just didn’t arrive vivisected like this.  MMMmmochi ice cream!!!  There hasn’t been something this yummy, small, cute, and sweet since Sigyn was born!

The human male has ordered something odd just because he’s intrigued by the photo on the menu.  The picture looks like a fried fish, but it says something about ice cream and it is listed with the desserts.  It should be zipping this way on the conveyor belt any moment.

And here it is!

It…It looks like a fried fish!   Sigyn confirms that it is, indeed, nestled in a bed of ice cream.  i have never seen such a thing and I am completely baffled.

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Human male: takes a bite

Me: stares

Human female:  takes a taste, squeals

Well, nail me to the front door and use me as a knocker!  Apparently this is, in fact, dessert!  The outside has the consistency of a waffle or a fried doughnut, and the innards are full of sweet red bean-paste!  In other words, it is a more highly-evolved form of sweet, beany goo delivery!

The human female now wants one of her very own.  However, everyone at the table is completely full, and there isn’t room in anyone’s tummy for so much as a fin.  See, human female?  If you’d shared the shrimp tempura earlier, you’d have room for a fish waffle now.  Serves you right.

台所の他のすべてのおいしい魚は別の日に泳ぐために生きます

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Souvenir d’un Déjeuner Passé, Deuxième Partie: Les Entrées et Les Desserts

By my fine pointy helmet, it was hard to choose what to eat!  In the end, most of the party agreed to order different things and then perhaps “swap tastes.”  I, of course, wouldn’t dream of sharing with anyone but Sigyn.

The Blue-haired Goddaughter opted for a salmon sandwich.

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I was really, REALLY hoping the human female would ask for a nice big taste.  One of these days I’m going to see her break out in that famous pebbly rash she’s always talking about…

Another of the party chose quiche and a cup of fruit.

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Now see, this seems all backwards to me.  Pie should have fruit in it (but NOT cantaloupe–bleargh!), not on the side, and eggs are not pie material.

The human female, out of all that marvelous menu, chose something she actually makes very well herself—French onion soup.  Great Frigga’s hairpins!  Doesn’t she know that dining out is for trying something different?!

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The salad–excuse me, salade— had spinach, prosciutto, cranberries, asiago cheese, pear, and caramelized pecans, so that, at least, was a little adventurous.

We all saved room for dessert.  The Blue-haired Goddaughter made sure she saved some room for strawberries Romanoff crêpes.

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I was going to ask to try them, but le sucre en poudre est une bête à enlever de mon manteau.

Sigyn and the human female, between them, managed to consume this entire almond croissant…

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And still have room to eat one or two of the beignets that someone else couldn’t finish.

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Madame la femme humaine, vraiment vous êtes un petite cochon.

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Souvenir d’un Déjeuner Passé, Première Partie: Les Préliminaires

When I become sole ruler of this realm, it will be important to have documentation* of all my mighty exploits, which are, you must admit, the stuff of legend and worthy of many a ballad or saga.  So today I was looking through the photographic evidence of my mischief, making sure all was in order, and I came across a set of images from a culinary adventure which happened a few months ago and which I have heretofore not chronicled.  It’s not that I forgot about it–it’s simply that I’ve had so much other mischief to write about!  But since I know that my devoted readers will want all of the details, so allow me to recount…

This all occurred on the humans’ most recent visit to the Blue-haired Goddaughter and her family–as well as a number of friends–in the Big City to the North.  While the males of the house party amused themselves with board games, the females decided to venture forth in search of retail adventures. Sigyn, I could tell, was quite keen to accompany them, and I went along as her companion and bodyguard.  (Leave my beloved unprotected in a strange city?  Not on my life!)

The outing included a genteel repast at a charming little bistro.  It had an English name, but it was rather Frenchified on the inside.  Sigyn and I found the menu to be quite intriguing.  There were so many wonderful dishes from which to choose.

Sigyn thought about ordering the Goat Cheese and Arugula Salad.

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I was in the mood for something more substantial.

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I couldn’t believe, with chicken and waffles and calimari on the menu, that Sigyn would even contemplate a fungus burger.

bistro3

Planning the meal around the dessert, however, was entirely in character for both of us.

bistro4

It was a chilly day, so Sigyn thought tea might be nice.  She’s a big fan of Earl Gray.  The very aroma of it makes her drool.

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But I thought this one would suit me better.

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So what did everyone finally order?  Je te le dirai demain…

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*pics or it didn’t happen

Labels are Very Important

I am continuing my exploration of the Room of Dead Things.  Today I am paying particular attention to the labels on the boxes.

The Purveyor of Dead Things is usually good about putting labels on the outsides of the boxes.  (I say “usually,” because last year, I made sure that twenty boxes of the Dead Cat Ballet came in completely unmarked.  Opening them all to discern the contents was like a Very Gruesome Yule.  I still giggle every time I think about it!)

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Those are sharks, but not the sharks the human female is hoping for.  She should have learned by now to live with disappointment.

Some of the boxes bear additional helpful notes from the human female or her staff.

boxlabel5

I know *I* wouldn’t want to use eyeballs that were past their best-by date!

Even preserved goods don’t last forever.  Larger items, especially, can degrade over time.  Indeed, older stock is clearly marked “use first.”

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Hmm. I think I will add a few more helpful label items.  

They say a picture is worth a thousand words:

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It helps that my godlike magic lets me see inside the cartons.  Caution labels are always nice:

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Uh oh!  Better mark this one too, to avoid a catastrophe.

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Ehehehe!  Who am I kidding? That box is heavy enough and wet enough inside that, warning label or no, someone’s going to go home some night redolent of Eau de chat preservé.

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