Friend or Foe? (Nigh†)
May 8, 2012 18:59:48 GMT -5
Post by romeo on May 8, 2012 18:59:48 GMT -5
It is shortly before sundown. Victor is making supper in the kitchen as usual. Pops never cooked. Ma did all the cooking up until the accident, then Victor started. It's almost always baked fish.
But today, Victor is trying something different--beer-battered fish. It's a new recipe he learned recently at school while eavesdropping on other students. He puts flour and salt into a mixing bowl, then whisks a few bottles a beer into the solution until it's nice and creamy. Preparing the fish is next. He removes the skin and bones, then cuts them into small pieces no more than 3/4 inches thick and no longer than 6 inches long. He pats them dry with paper towels. After heating about 2 inches of oil in a large pot up to 350*F on the stove, Victor coats the fish with the beer-batter and cooks them in the oil one at a time with a pair of thongs until each fish is cooked with perfection.
Victor goes to the livingroom to get his dad, who's drunk as usual. "Yo, Pops. Food's done."
The old man chugs the rest of his bottle and sets it on the counter, then reluctantly follows his son into the kitchen. He takes one look at the empty beer bottles near the stove and his eyes narrow. He immediately slams Victor into the table, snapping it in two. "What me tell you bout touchin ma beers?"
It's a good thing Victor never bothered setting the table or else there would be several broken plates. Thankfully, the beer-battered fish is also still on the counter where he left it. "Goddammit! What the hell is your problem?" He gets to his feet. "It's just a few bottles of b..."
The old man immediately grabs Victor and throws him into the door. "Get out! Out o' me house!"
"Come on, man. Not again. The food's gonna get cold."
"Out now!"
Victor sighs with defeat. "Figures..." It seems he's going to have to find something else to eat tonight. He stands up, then brushes himself off and leaves the building.
The sun is down by now. Victor is walking down a road with his hands in his pocket. He is wearing a black T-shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of black sneakers. Stupid old man, when is he ever gonna learn? He can't keep living like this! No matter how much he drinks, Ma's never coming back. Suddenly, he notices movement to his right. Well, well, well... What have we here? He goes closer in order to investigate.
But today, Victor is trying something different--beer-battered fish. It's a new recipe he learned recently at school while eavesdropping on other students. He puts flour and salt into a mixing bowl, then whisks a few bottles a beer into the solution until it's nice and creamy. Preparing the fish is next. He removes the skin and bones, then cuts them into small pieces no more than 3/4 inches thick and no longer than 6 inches long. He pats them dry with paper towels. After heating about 2 inches of oil in a large pot up to 350*F on the stove, Victor coats the fish with the beer-batter and cooks them in the oil one at a time with a pair of thongs until each fish is cooked with perfection.
Victor goes to the livingroom to get his dad, who's drunk as usual. "Yo, Pops. Food's done."
The old man chugs the rest of his bottle and sets it on the counter, then reluctantly follows his son into the kitchen. He takes one look at the empty beer bottles near the stove and his eyes narrow. He immediately slams Victor into the table, snapping it in two. "What me tell you bout touchin ma beers?"
It's a good thing Victor never bothered setting the table or else there would be several broken plates. Thankfully, the beer-battered fish is also still on the counter where he left it. "Goddammit! What the hell is your problem?" He gets to his feet. "It's just a few bottles of b..."
The old man immediately grabs Victor and throws him into the door. "Get out! Out o' me house!"
"Come on, man. Not again. The food's gonna get cold."
"Out now!"
Victor sighs with defeat. "Figures..." It seems he's going to have to find something else to eat tonight. He stands up, then brushes himself off and leaves the building.
The sun is down by now. Victor is walking down a road with his hands in his pocket. He is wearing a black T-shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of black sneakers. Stupid old man, when is he ever gonna learn? He can't keep living like this! No matter how much he drinks, Ma's never coming back. Suddenly, he notices movement to his right. Well, well, well... What have we here? He goes closer in order to investigate.
