The Home Of The Blizzard Part 15

ERROR. Take those burberrys away, please, old man. They're dripping into the soup.

TEREBUS. Give it some flavour at least.

[Great activity in the crater of ERROR while TEREBUS clears the kitchen.

ERROR continues stirring Soup and tapioca custard on the stove. Strong smell of burning.

VOICES [in peculiarly joyful chorus]. Something burning!

ERROR [aside to TEREBUS]. It's all right. It will taste all right. Say it's cloth on the stove.

TEREBUS. Somebody's burberrys burning against the stove!!

[General rush to the stove.

TEREBUS. It's all right, I've taken them away.

[Interval, during which much sotto voce discussion is heard in the kitchen.

ERROR. We haven't put the spinach on to thaw and it's after six o'clock.

TEREBUS. Warm it up and put it on the table with the tin-openers.

ERROR. I'm afraid that's against the regulations. Put it in the oven and shut the door.

[TEREBUS does so. Later, terrific explosion, followed by strong smell of spinach.

VOICES. What's the matter? Terebus in eruption!

TEREBUS [wiping spinach off his face]. Nothing wrong. Only a tin of spinach opened automatically.

ERROR. It's plastered all over the oven and on everything.

TEREBUS. Don't worry, it will be served up with the baked penguin.

[Period of partial quiescence of TEREBUS and ERROR, which is regarded as an evil omen.

ERROR [in persuasive tone]. Have you made the tea, old boy? It's nearly half-past six.

[TEREBUS takes off the lid of the tea-boiler, peers inside, making a scoop with his hand.

ERROR. Here, don't do that. Mind your hands.

TEREBUS. It's all right, it's not hot.

ERROR. What shall we do, then? We'll never keep them quiet if we are late with the tea.

TEREBUS. Put the tea in now. It will be warmed up by the second course.

[TEREBUS puts the infusers in the pot and stirs them round.

ERROR. Taste it.

[BOTH taste with a dirty spoon.

TEREBUS. Tastes like your soup--'orrible!

ERROR. There's nothing wrong with the soup. You attend to the tea.

TEREBUS. I think we'll have coffee. Pa.s.s the coffee and I'll put that in and bring it to the boil. The coffee will kill the taste of the tea.

ERROR. Hope you make it stronger than that.

[During quiescent stage while each is thinking of a retort, 6.30 P.M.

arrives, and the soup is put on the table. Interval elapses during which the victims are expected to eat the soup.

VOICES [in loud chant from the table]. How did you do it, Error?

TEREBUS [after a suitable period]. Any one like any more soup?

A VOICE. Couldn't risk it, Governor. TEREBUS. Bowls up! Lick spoons!

[Bowls are cleared away and baked penguin is put on the table.

ERROR. Cooks have got their penguin, gentlemen.

[Suspicious glances exchanged at table. Later, monotonous chant goes up, preceded by a soft "One, two, three." "Didn't sc.r.a.pe the blubber off, Error."

[Plates cleared away and sc.r.a.ped into dogs' bucket. ERROR takes tapioca custard from oven in two dishes.

ERROR [aside to TEREBUS]. Take some out of this one for us and don't forget to put that dish in front of the Doctor, because I spilled soda in the other.

[TEREBUS takes two large helpings out and puts rest on table as directed.

TEREBUS. You need not remember the cooks, gentlemen.

A VOICE. Don't want to, if I can manage it.

ERROR [aside to TEREBUS]. Put on the Algerian sweets, and then we can have ours.

TEREBUS [taking several handfuls]. We'll put these aside for perks.

[The sweets on the table, TEREBUS and ERROR retire to kitchen to have their dinner.

ERROR. Is this my pudding? It's only an ordinary share.

[TEREBUS is too busy to reply, and further eruption is prevented by the temporary plugging of ERROR.

Cooking, under the inspiration of Mrs. Beeton, became a fine art: