Thanks for another phwoarsome skitcomp, especially as there are shitloads of opps at the mo so this usually gets the shitty end of the sphincter. Congratulations to GAPPY and STONKED for winning: please get pished as farths and PM me with a subject apiss for next wank. Mixing my metahors.
Hence:

Votes - Points - Name
2 - 10 - Gappy, Stonked
1 - 5 - Gregmweir
Special mention - ShirlTheWhirl, Michael Monkhouse

Your new subject: COOKERY (chosen by Gappy).

Rules:
One entry/vote per person. Anyone can enter regardless of colour, sexual preferences or inside leg measurement, except bin Laden.
Can be a sketch, joke, lyric or anything else as long as it's yours and vaguely linked to the topic. Please try and only post your entry/vote and no other posts.
You can edit your entry as much as you want, up until the closing time.

Competition Closes: 28.3.14

Overall Leader Board is now:
Position - Points - Name
1 - 30 - Stonked
2 - 21 - Gappy
3 - 10 - ShirlTheWhirl
4 - 5 - Gregmweir, Supermanc, Michael Monkhouse
5 - 1 - Otterfox, Nick81

GIANT 1: Afternoon, Silas.

GIANT 2: Afternoon, Garth. Hey, I like your little leather jerkin.

GIANT 1: Yes. I often find it useful to wear in situations like this where everything is to scale, so that people know we're giants.

GIANT 2: Clever.

GIANT 1: Right, I think the bread is ready.

GIANT 2: Brilliant! I love bread.

[GIANT 1 opens the large kitchen range and brings out a platter of very sorry, flat, unpleasant looking loaves]

GIANT 1: Another duff batch, I'm afraid.

GIANT 2: Blast it! I've got an idea. Perhaps we should increase the yeast by 10% and - call me crazy - add some buttermilk. What do you say?

GIANT 1: OK, we *could* do that. But I think - and I'm just going to come right out and say it - that we should change the flour we always use.

GIANT 2: You reckon?

GIANT 1: Yes. Quite certain. You see, most flour is manufactured from corn, or wheat, or any one of a wide variety of crops. It is, however, rarely, if ever, made from bones.

GIANT 2: Are you sure?

GIANT 1: Quite certain. I don't think anyone's ever looked at a skeleton and thought, "you know, that would be a good culinary ingredient, if I smooshed it down to dust". Except you.

GIANT 2: I'm pretty sure they use it in France.

GIANT 1: No they don't. No nation on the earth creates osseous flour, and we are looking at the reason why. It doesn't work.

GIANT 2: But, we have to use the bone flour. I promised.

GIANT 1: Promised who?

GIANT 2: You know, the donators. The bonees. I say "Fee! Fi! Fo! Fum!" - yadda yadda yadda - "grind his bones to make my bread!".

GIANT 1: I don't suspect they'll raise much resistance, to be brutally frank.

GIANT 2: But it's the ethics of the thing. I can't lie

GIANT 1: Some might say the higher ethical stance would be to not flay anyone who happens to wander anywhere near your house, but that's by the by. Just don't say it . Try "Fe Fi", whatever, "I'll kill you and grind up your bones". Nobody's going to start asking, "Really? Then what?" . I promise.

GIANT 2: Wee-llll. I'm not convinced. Anyway, in the mean time, I'm hungry - stuff the bread, how about we knock up an omelette?

GIANT 1: Oh, right, yeah: about these golden eggs...

Whats green and smells like bacon?

Out of date bacon

I went to McDonald's, I said, 'I'd like a Big Mac please.' He said, 'With relish?' I said, 'OOOH, I'D LIKE A BIG MAC PLEASE.'

THE KING IS STARTING HIS DINNER IN HIS CASTLE.

KING - This is vile, absolute swill. The cook shall answer for this. Bring her to me now.

SIR BRIAN - Your majesty, you had the cook beheaded last week.

KING - So who cooked this foul concoction?

SIR BRIAN - The stable lad, your majesty.

KING - Why would I behead the cook? I live for her lemon flumpets. Her dumplings are luscious.

SIR BRIAN - I believe they were a little over-salted last week your majesty.

KING - Well, I'm not an unreasonable man. I can overlook the salt. Tell her to come back and cook for me - by royal command!

SIR BRIAN - I'm not sure that you understood me, your majesty. Her head is on a spike on the castle wall.

KING - Oh. Well why is the stable lad cooking for me? Whoever heard of a galloping gourmet?

SIR BRIAN - The cooks are all too scared to cook for you. They fear for their lives. The stable lad is all I can get.

KING - There must be someone else.

SIR BRIAN - Well, there's old Betsy Wartrub.

KING - Isn't she a witch?

SIR BRIAN - You can't believe all the rumours. She cooks up a storm.

KING - That's what I'm afraid of. I'm sure she's a witch.

SIR BRIAN - I can assure you that she isn't.

KING - You're sure you're sure?

SIR BRIAN - Perfectly. Just be nice to her cat and steer clear of her toad-in-the-hole.

CUT TO BETSY WARTRUB, WEARING A WITCHES HAT, LOOKING IN HER CRYSTAL BALL AND CACKLING MANIACLY.

BETSY - Never mind my toad-in-the-hole, I'll cook his goose!

EXT. SPARSE WOODLAND IN CENTRAL ENGLAND
TWO FIGURES SILENTLY MATERIALISE IN THE LONG SHADOWS OF A SPRING EVENING.

A1
Could the Earthling's be aware that we've landed?

A2
Absolutely not, sir. Both our approach and descent were cloaked.

A1
Excellent. The element of surprise is absolutely crucial. If the Earthlings were to be expecting us, it would spoil everything.

A2
Oh, I totally agree, sir. The element of surprise will make it much easier for us to kill them and steal their goats.

A1
No. There'll be no killing, and no stealing goats.

A2
But we're the advance party. That's what the advance party does. We kill. We steal goats.

A1
Not any more, we don't. It's all been changed. I sent you a memo.

A2
I probably wiped my arse on it. It's what I do. I receive a memo. I wipe my arse.

A1
Then it's just as well we've had this little chat. From now on, our emphasis is less on the advance and more on the party.

A2
That makes no sense to me at all. If that's what you wrote in your memo, I was right to wipe my arse on it.

A1
Simply put, our mission as the advance party is to throw the Earthlings a surprise party. And cook them a nice meal.

A2 (SNEERING)
Really? How nice.

A1
Yes. Our specific brief for this mission is to throw what's known as a barbecue.

A2
Which is?

A1
It involves cooking various animal products on a stylised grilling apparatus.

A2
Animal products. Now that's more like it. I volunteer for killing the animals, sir.

A1
No need. We won't be doing any killing.

A2
Gutting? Skinning? Butchering?

A1
No. Nothing like that. None of that's allowed.

A2
With respect, sir. With no killing, gutting, skinning or butchering allowed, how are we supposed to obtain and prepare these various animal products for our surprise barbecue?

A1
We'll go shopping.

A2
Shopping? The proud marauding armies of Xenon77? Laying down their sharp and pointy weapons and going on shopping trips and throwing surprise parties for puny, defeated aliens?

A1
No. We're not here to defeat them. That was the old way. The new way is to wine and dine them and then sign them up to our surprise-party franchise.

A2
This is our new plan for dominating the galaxy?

A1
Why not? It's much less risky than all that killing stuff. And the figures for last quarter look very promising. Remind me to send you a memo.

A2
Remind me to tell you what I'll be doing with it.

END

All fun this week, but I'm going for Shirl, after some thought.

Yes, Shirl, but a high standard overall.

Interesting how other-worldly themes came to the fore. I'm going for Shirl, too, who just held off Gappy (oh no she didn't, oh yes she did). Nice short one from Michael.

Really good week - nobody went for the obvious. Going for Gappy - I really liked the idea behind it. (But also enjoyed Michael's shortie)