Quality and quantity, as I say to Mother at that time of the month, and congratulations to GAPPY, ALEX MAHON and DARREN for winning. PM me with a subject apiss for next wank please.
Hence:

Votes - Points - Name
2 - 10 - Gappy, Darren, Alex Mahon
1 - 5 - me

Your new subject: FOOD.

Rules:
One entry/vote per person. Anyone can enter regardless of colour, sexual preferences or inside leg measurement, except mongeese.
Can be a sketch, joke, lyric or anything else as long as it's yours and vaguely linked to the topic. Please try to 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: 14.11.15

BAD TASTE

PUB.
TOM and DICK.

TOM 'Ere Dick, eaten out recently?

DICK Mind yer own business.

TOM No - a restaurant.

DICK Yeah, went to the Ethiopian.

TOM Cool. Whatcha eat?

DICK F**k all. Standard Ethiopian meal.

TOM Starter?

DICK F**k all.

TOM First course?

DICK F**k all.

TOM Second?

DICK (thinks) F**k all.

TOM Well, at least you saved money.

DICK Are you completely stupid?

TOM (thinks)

DICK Each plate of f**k all for Ethiopia costs three thousand Euro.

TOM You spent...?

DICK Of course not... Oxfam did. They send three thousand quid to Ethiopia...

TOM And the kid eats?

DICK NO! It goes to the government and they...

TOM Give it to the kid?

DICK You're not concentrating. They spend it on international terrorism.

TOM Isn't that dangerous?

DICK Obviously. If the terrorists kill enough people there'll be food for the rest of us.

TOM Neat.

I vote Michael.

I will edit with a proper post later...maybe, but just wanted to say loved this.

INT: Masterchef kitchen. John Torode and Gregg Wallace mulling over who should win the final.

JOHN: We started off with two hundred and thirty four amateur cooks, and over the last eighty-seven weeks, have whittled it down to these three exceptionally talented chefs. Today we've seen some brilliant food. We've seen skill, creativity and adventurous food. We've experienced flavours and textures I've not encountered before. But this is the final...

GREGG: ...And we've got to pick just one to be crowned our Masterchef of 2015. It's gonna be tough, John. Judging doesn't get any harder than this!

JOHN: Well let's start with someone who I thought struggled a bit today, and that's Jill.

GREGG: Brave menu choice though, John.

JOHN: True. I was excited by the thought of Chicken Carpaccio, Turkey Tartare, and twenty-eight-day aged Halibut Sashimi, but for me, Jill's dishes failed to deliver the sparkle I was hoping for. I don't know if it was the pressure of the final, or the effects of our explosive diarrhoea, but something definitely put Jill off her A game today.

GREGG: If Jill had served up a gem of a dessert like she did in the quarters, then maybe I would've overlooked the severe bout of Salmonella. You know me John, I'm a sucker for a good pud, but in my book, rancid halibut is not a good pud! Projectile vomiting doesn't get any harder than this!

(Gregg spews a stream of lime green vomit directly in to John's face)

JOHN: So we're both agreed. Jill's out of the running. What about the gorgeous Sophie?

GREGG: Ho, ho, our Soph. What an absolute stunner, John.

JOHN: Seriously, seriously fit, Gregg. And talented too. Sophie's salmon sphincter and scollop bollock risotto was heavenly, and she demonstrated some extraordinary knife skills in the preparation of her heritage carrot reduction.

GREGG: How she managed to reduce each carrot to exactly three microns is completely beyond me? That's Michelin star stuff there, John. My only disappointment? Again, no desert. Do you think Sophie left herself too much to do?

JOHN: I think it had more to do with her accidentally slashing her own carotid artery and bleeding to death, Gregg.

GREGG: Yeah, I think you're probably right, John. However, I'm not inclined to hold Sophie's untimely demise against her. I just think she's far too hot and horny to dismiss at this late stage. The contents of my boxers don't get any harder than this!

JOHN: Agreed. Despite being dead, Sophie's still in contention. That just leaves us with Mick.

GREGG: Ho, ho, ho. Mick! He might not win any prizes for presentation, but round after round, he's consistently delivered good honest plates of food that I just love.

JOHN: He certainly blew me away with his Toast Three Ways. Wonderful! Using a dash of Lee and Perrins to tie in the cheese on toast with the beans on toast and the spaghetti hoops on toast. Pure genius.

GREGG: His clever use of own brand beans. The man knows his ingredients, John. What about the rest of Mick's menu?

JOHN: A large Mighty Meat with oodles of extra mozzarella, side orders of Chicken Strippers and garlic bread, all finished off with a delicious tub of velvety Ben and Jerry's. Wow! What's not to like?

GREGG: I just worry that you may think he's played it a little too safe for the final?

JOHN: Not at all. Mick's use of the phone was inspired and his timing was perfect. There were no guarantees that the delivery driver would find the address, but everything arrived on-time and piping hot. Fantastic! Loved it. Loved it all.

GREGG: Me too. That bread, John. It was like a gloriously garlicky smack round the gob with a sweaty mafioso's greasy ball sack. I couldn't help myself, I just had to finish off the whole cholesterol laden box. My arteries don't get any harder than this!

JOHN: We could go on debating this all night, but I suspect that we both agree on who we think should be our winner.

GREGG: I think you're right John. Shall we put them out of their misery?

(John and Gregg prepare to deliver their verdict)

JOHN: The winner and BBC's Masterchef of 2015 is...

(Ridiculously long pause)

JOHN: ...Mick! Mick come up and collect your Masterchef 2018 trophy.

GREGG: Doling out the same old tat, week after f**king week, doesn't get any harder than this!

1: Eat in or eat out?

2: In, please. [Beat] No, I said in.

1: That's right.

2: But you're wrapping my burrito in tin foil, surely that's not the packaging for eating in.

1: Yes it is.

2: But I'm going to sit down at a table in seconds and unwrap the foil.

1: Even so, that's the packaging for eating in, sir.

2: So, what's the packaging for eating out?

1: Wrapping it in tin foil.

2: That's the same!

1: Oh, no. When you eat in we also place the wrapped burrito in a small basket.

2: A small basket I will immediately take the burrito out of.

1: Yes.

2: And then peel off the tin foil.

1: Tell you what, I'll let you off having the basket.

2: I don't care about the basket! I want to know why you're wrapping my burrito in tin foil.

1: It's authentic.

2: Is it?

1: Yes. Burritos are Mexican street food. This is how people eat them.

2: Is it? So, is it OK if I authentically eat it standing here, playing the guitar?

1: No.

2: Is it OK if I authentically eat it here, deal some heroin, carry out a cheap abortion on an American and then have a small sleep?

1: No.

2: No. Is it OK if I authentically pay for it with almost worthless pesos?

1: No.

2: No. So, is it OK if we skip the tin foil?

1: Oh, sir, give me one good reason why you wouldn't want the tin foil.

2: It makes a stupid crinkly sound, it's inefficient, it has a small knock-on effect on the cost of my dinner, and it's ecologically unsound.

1: Phrrp, I said one reason.

2: Also, if you bite it by mistake, it feels really odd.

1: Does it, sir? Aluminium foil on enamel, I would have thought that felt alright.

2: No, sure, but...

1: What? Fillings, is it, sir? Do you have fillings?

2: Yes. Yes, a couple. What's it to you?

1: I'll let you into a secret, that's what the foil's for. All burrito shops are owned by dentists, as a stealth way of making sure people spread the word about not getting fillings.

2: By putting aluminium near food?

1: That's right. We have to wrap the burritos in foil, because if we didn't you'd notice where we'd put little balls of foil into the chipotle. We're here to punish you for not looking after your teeth with tiny balls of tingly mouth weirdness; have been since the large British Dental Association conference of 2005, which is when all burrito shops suddenly appeared, remember?

2: Wait, foil in my food, is that allowed?

1: Grey area.

2: Well, I think it's terrible. You won't catch me buying any more food from you and your deranged power-mad dentists.

1: Yes but...you are here now. And the burrito's ready. And it's quite cheap. And you are so very, very lazy. I know that, because otherwise you would have brushed your teeth.

2: Hey, I'm not -

1: This burrito will just go in the bin. And you'll have to walk out of here and find some other food, and then wait for it to be prepared, and...

2: Yes, alright, fine give it here.

1: Very good, sir.

2: And what do you have to drink?

1: Coke. Just loads of Coke.

All good this week. Gappy's was punchy, with a good joke per minute rate. Reminds me of Jerry Seinfeld, in that it's about observations of what should be irrelevant detail, yet I was hooked.

Mike came a very close second. I love the brevity and simplicity of the message. Two very good jokes in there. It's very "Bottom". But it's a bit one dimensional (unless you can get Roy Chubby Brown to do it).

AdeO. You have created the characters and the setting well, put some good work in. It's well written in one sense, but for a sketch it's a big wordy, a bit sluggish. But that might just be my bias, well done.

I agree, it's close between Gappy and Mr. Monkhouse this week, but in an attempt to engineer some excitement and artificially heighten the tension, X-Factor style, I'm going to plump for Mr. Monkhouse.

Yay, third's not bad for me. At least I didn't come last...
...hold on a minute!

Damn - missed it. I'll go for Michael Monkhouse - Bob's illegitimate daughter.

Really liked a lot of AdeO's, but I think perhaps in this case the rule of 3 should have been flouted - it felt abit clogged and as though it could have been 3 separate sketches each neatly exploring a single lovely concept (or maybe a runner). Very close second, for me.

Michael's makes me a bit queasy, but I won't deny for a second that it's beutifully put together and impeccably argued, so a fat glowing vote for the boss this week.

F**king Hell, compliments. Better lower my style.
Good stuff and ultimately Gappy.

Good work all round - could easily have picked any of them.

Really liked Gappys 'and then have a small sleep?' I could hear David Mitchell delivering that line.

But will stick with Michael.