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Rated: 13+ · Other · Comedy · #1226166
short satire about bar bee ques
         Last weekend, I took the role of chef in the old-fashioned ritual of an American cook-out, also known as “Turning Good Meat to Charcoal.”

         I did not take this role lightly because it is a tradition that has been around since the first caveman dropped his triceratops steak in the mud, while huddled over a quickly dying fire in the rain and six other cavemen stood around waiting for someone to invent beer.

         I did have some major advantages over the caveman. Beer has been invented and I have a propane grill. I also have fireproof gloves and a cute little apron that says “Only you can prevent forest fires.” (To the Texans in the group, a forest is a great big bunch of trees all close together.)

         The first thing is to choose the meat.  Thin slices will turn to charcoal easily and completely, while thick slices will be charcoal on the outside and frozen in the center. This means that every thick piece will have something that someone likes, from rare to well done. It is much harder to get a medium thick steak to cook properly. If the outside is burnt, the inside may be well done, disappointing people who want their steak rare. It is all a trade off and I bought the steak and I asked people to come, so I can cook it any way I please.

         Next, choose the most important part, the beer. Here again, you have options. One of the best is tell everyone to bring their own. This may seem cheap, but it saves a lot of discussion. I have seen arguments over beer develop into riots, complete with the fire department coming in with water cannons.  If you choose to take the chance and buy the beer yourself, you can have a beer Baskins and Robins with 31 flavors and some idiot will want something else. This guest is a good candidate for providing the entertainment, which will be a public lynching.

         The grill itself is much more than just a simple cooking surface. It is also a way to destroy large parts of the neighborhood. Properly located, the grill is a good substitute for small thermo-nuclear devices. On fire, a loose propane hose can really be entertaining and a good substitute for fireworks. It will also give the public something to watch while waiting for the lynching.

         There are thousands of books on the market about how to grill and they are all wrong. A true master of the grill passes on his secrets only to his first-born son on his death bed.  I mean when the son is on his death bed. That way, he can’t tell anyone, except maybe the doctor.

         But, I digress and need to get back to the cookout of last week. There are all kinds of grills in use. Some cost thousands of dollars and others are like my first grill. It was half a 55 gallon barrel with wire mesh across the top. The burner came from a natural gas water heater and it shot flames 20 feet in the air when using propane. That was a little too much fire, so I sold it to a pet crematorium. Last I heard, it was still in use.
         
              My grill now is a yard sale special. It is quite well broken in. (The grease build-up is over two inches.) I once thought of cleaning it, but a cold beer got in the way. It works quite well, until the grease build-up catches on fire. Then, I put on an asbestos suit that I got from Red Adair, the famous oil well fire fighter. I can get close enough to turn the meat, as long as I don’t stay in the area too long.

         But, the cook out last week did turn out nicely. Most of the property damage was covered by insurance. The police only came with the fire department and ambulance. The lynching was postponed because the lynchee was able to outrun everyone else there. Part of the reason he was so fast was because he had not been drinking, just sitting around griping because there was no dark low calorie ale in bottles. Everyone said the steak was just right. This might have been because we still had an un-used rope.          

         I am planning on having at least on more cook out. Then, I am going to find out how fast that idiot can run with a six pack of low calorie ale in him. 








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