Pease Porridge Hot

You won't be able to swallow the rhymes again.

Pease porridge hot, Pease porridge cold,

Pease porridge in the pot Nine days old.

Some like it hot, Some like it cold

Some like it in the pot Nine days old.

A food critic went to visit his friend who had a bladder problem. But he got bored until he saw a diner just beside the hospital. Usually, he would just criticize three to five star restaurants in the town. But it would be fun to bring down a lousy diner by putting worse reviews in the paper. It was just an old trailer without wheels and inside was a bar with stools. Aside from the food critic, there was another customer eating a bowl of pease porridge. He gave a peace sign to the food critic. The food critic sat on one stool and rang the bell.

Someone slowly emerged from below the counter. It was a small person with a bad tan, rough skin like a frog, a hunchback, green lupine eye and a Cheshire cat grin. “What can I get ya’?” he or it said to the food critic in a creepy friendly way. “I’ll have your three best delicacies.” The ugly fellow nodded. He clapped his hands, then his right tapped the table, clapped again, and his left tapped the table. Then, he came down as if there was a staircase down the cash register. While waiting, the food critic took down negative notes about the diner. It was pretty lousy alright, unsanitary and there’s something uncanny. He was then surprised that the ugly fellow was peeking out the counter, watching the food critic.

Suddenly, he heard somebody, two of them, below the counter having a playful clapping. The ugly fellow looked down and finally presented three bowls of pease porridge to the food critic. The food critic pointed out that he wanted three different dishes and they better be the best. “But these are three different kinds of porridge,” the ugly fellow replied, “One is cooked hot. One is cold. And the last is nine-days old.” The food critic no longer argued with the weird creature, and tasted the three dishes of yellow broth, black peas and bacon joints. To his surprise, they were all great. Each has a unique and impressive taste, especially the nine-day old porridge.

“Yeah,” the other customer agreed, “It’s far better than the new-born porridge.” The food critic was confused, and left. In the hospital, he was surprised to see another frog-like creature there. It was holding a plastic bag full of yellow liquid. “What are you doing here?” the food critic asked, “Is that urine?”

“Groceries. I’m shopping for ingredients, y’know,” it replied as it looked glutinously at the nursery. A nurse passed by, and the ugly creature asked her, “Where are the nine-day old babies?”

The food critic hurried back to the diner and shouted, “You serve babies?!”

“Well, duh! They’re pretty delicious, right?” the creature at the counter said.

The food critic shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah. I guess so.”

Author's Note

I was going to coin piss porridge, but I was more interested on the nine-days old ingredient. I was inspired by an episode of Courage the Cowardly Dog, entitled Heads of Beef.