THE WITCHING HOURHans and Greta Falberstraumyour genial host and hostess,welcome you to the Witching Hourthe hotspot with the mostest.Grab a table, name your poison,we'll whip up your favorite brew,inside a steaming cauldron, itwill cast a spell on you.Our menu has new items,so take your time, peruse!Our pastries, breads and cocktailswill aid your self-abuse.Try our "Grave Turnovers"they'll have you doing that,and "Half-dead Bread" will keep you fed,with only half the fat.We have "Legosi Lager",it has a nasty bite,toss a few right down your throat,you'll be howling through the night.Here's something for the ladies,"Man-eater Martinis" for you,you can get it with a sandwich,just don't bite more than you can chew!There's the "Wolfman" and "Hair O' the Dog",both to fix what ails you,the "Eye of Newt" and "Toe of Frog",the soup that never fails you.And don't forget the kiddies,our fare, they will be lovin',feeling the heat in every treatfrom our "Hansel and Gretle" oven.The Falberstraums are anxiousto have you all for dinner,their "Mystery Meat" Pot Roastis for sure a drop dead winner.So, we'll see you when you're hungry,or come in when you thirst,Hans and Greta do assure youyou could really do much worse."The Witching Hour" beckons you,to ignore it would be rude,Wine and dine, you'll do just finewith all our "Killer" food.(Formerly the "Kill 'em and Grill 'em Steakhouse", Paramus, New Jersey, 07652)
First fable I've ever written. Seeds Of Friendship
Hans and Greta opened a bakery and bar called the Witching Hour. “Greta, darn it, I told you NO KIDS ALLOWED!” Hans roared as he looked at a sticky trail of bubblegum clinging to the bottom of his boot. “The clan is going to yank our liquor license!”“Keep your lederhosen on!” Greta clucked at her controlling brother. “Those ‘kids’ are dwarves you idiot. Oh, sorry! I mean, ‘little people’. ” Greta quickly corrected herself when the surly one threw her a nasty glare. “I don’t give a poisoned apple what they are!” Hans was on a rampage. “If they don’t stop with the juvenile pranks I’m going to call in my last favor with the Queen.”“You wouldn’t dare.” Greta narrowed her green eyes and pursed her lips.“Try me.” Hans tossed at her while drawing a draft of Ruby Ale for one of the regulars. “Aww, Hans,” Vlad whined, “How many times have I told you…no head!” This only infuriated Hans. He was a stickler for detail and had never once forgotten his regulars’ idiosyncrasies. The distraction these “people” were causing him was out of control.To make matters worse, Hans discovered that there had been a breach of privacy in the ladies’ room. Hell hath no fury like a Hans pissed off.Saturday’s Special: Seven new delightful Amuse Bouche creations by Hans. Lovingly baked in the wood-fired oven, topped with his special bread crumb recipe.
Deb, you are a sick and twisted individual. I like you! Love the references and the twist.
Wow! Both of you!!! Awesome beyond awesome. We'll put off your caning for another day, Walt. You definitely are due a reprieve for such good work. Two thumbs up.Deb, I loved the references too. Vlad.... finicky thing. LOL. Plus, the details...like topped with bread crumbs... perfect. I also liked the breach of privacy comment. That just goes to show you that I'm immature, though. Awesomely awesome with a side of awesome.
Wow, thanks Walt & Wendy! I guess I do my best work when I'm so tired I can't think too much. LOLWalt, as I said on your blog...LOVED your poem!! Yes, I am sick and twisted. It's awfully fun.
Why do you think I feel at home here?