Shitespace - The Secret Recipe
The Secret Recipe
Kate Rancid

Once upon a time there was a devilishly handsome pie salesman called Simon. Simon was famed for his potato and pilchard pasties, and pie enthusiasts flocked to his market stall from all over the world to taste them. Time and time again he was asked, "How do you make your potato and pilchard pasties so damned scrumptious then, Simon me old chap?" But Simon would never say. It was a secret recipe.

Next door to Simon's stall there was unfortunately another pie stall. It was run by a severely mentally impaired woman called Nurrr. Nurrr had only one arm and had lost several fingers in a bizarre bird-watching accident. As a child, she had been hospitalised after accidentally pouring a vat of hot lemon curd over her head and was, as a result, horrifically scarred. Every so often, flakes of blistering skin were found in her pies and so, now, nobody bought anything. Instead they went to Simon when in the mood for a pie.

Nurrr was severely unchuffed about this. She was in danger of losing her business and she desperately needed the money for a life-saving bowel operation. Without the operation, doctors told her, she would slowly turn orange and then begin to inflate before suddenly exploding. She had to get her hand on Simon's secret recipe before it was too late.

It was dawn, and Simon and Nurrr and all the other stall holders were beginning to arrive.

"Good morning Nurrr," said Simon in his usual friendly fashion.

"Gooo Ormig," replied Nurrr, spastically.

Simon felt sorry for Nurrr. He had heard that her stall was doing badly and about the bowel operation and he wanted to help her. But he couldn't tell her his secret recipe due to a promise he had made by his great grandfather's death bed.

Nurrr's disabilities had turned her into a bitter and twisted individual. She decided that she would get the recipe even if it meant murder. She began to hatch an evil plan. Throughout the day, Nurrr sat and watched as Simon sold pie after pie. Poor Nurrr didn't sell anything at all and by closing time she was feeling very angry.

"Had a good day then, Nurrr?" asked Simon as he counted his piles of money.

"Nor, not ruoirly," replied Nurrr, "Doo yar woncha chum ak ter merr harse fur soom corrfy?"

"Pardon?" asked Simon politely.

"Chum ak ter merr harse, ar sayed."

"OK," said Simon.

He didn't fancy an evening at Nurrr's house. He'd been there once for a Tupperware party and the house was grotty and smelled inexplicably of radishes. However, he felt very sorry for her so he went.

Nurrr poured the coffee and smiled.

"I do like your curtains. They're a beautiful shade of pale brown," volunteered Simon when the conversation became awkward.

"Thunk yoo," slurred Nurrr.

Simon fiddled nervously with his chocolate biscuit and tried desperately to come up with an excuse to leave. Suddenly, Nurrr jumped to her feet and pointed a gun at Simon's foot.

"Orrort Sarman, you murrderfurrker, gi ee dur resseep or doy."

"Pardon?" asked Simon in astonishment.

"Dur re i pe," muttered Nurrr incoherently.

"I can't!" cried Simon, "I promised my great grandfather!"


Off came the foot. There was blood everywhere.

"Narr gi ee dur resseep!"

The gun pointed at Simon's left arm.

"Never!" shouted Simon.

Bang! Clump!

The arm bounced off the wall and twitched itself to a standstill.

"Dur resseep!" screamed Nurrr.

The gun pointed at Simon's groin.

"OK! OK! Don't shoot! I'll tell you!"

Nurrr put down the gun and listened.

"The recipe is this. I use potato, pilchards and pastry. I put the potato and pilchards inside the pastry and cook it. There. Now I have broken my promise and you got what you wanted."

Simon began to cry.

"Wort sort of pillchurts?" dribbled Nurrr suspiciously.

"John West! John West!" blubbed Simon, "Now please let me go home. I'm tired."

Nurrr grinned and a bit of skin fell onto the carpet. Simon suddenly felt hungry.

"Let's cook some pasties now!" he said, "I can show you how to chop the potatoes."

"Mmm. Orite," said Nurrr.

Together they entered the kitchen. Simon set about peeling potatoes whilst Nurrr opened the tins of pilchards. Soon there was a lovely aroma of potatoey fish filling the whole house. Simon and Nurrr tucked in.

"Nurrr," said Simon, "I'm glad I came."

He smiled and put down his fork. Nurrr giggled with embarrassment as Simon placed his remaining hand on her leg.

"I know you're no beauty," crooned Simon, "But I love you. Will you marry me?"

"Ess! Ess!" Nurrr was so happy.

The couple stayed up all night and discussed their future. With their combined disabilities life together wouldn't be easy but they were deeply in love. In the morning, Simon got up to leave but fell over. Nurrr helped him up and they kissed passionately.

"Goodbye Nurrr, my darling. Next time we meet, we'll be at the altar," said Simon whilst picking Nurrr's face out from between his teeth.

Then suddenly, to Simon's horror, Nurrr began to turn orange. She knew what was happening straight away. It was too late for the bowel operation. She was about to explode. Not wanting Simon to see her scattered throughout the house she begged him to leave.

"I can't leave you, my darling!" screamed Simon.

"Peeez!" shouted Nurrr.

Simon picked up his limbs and sadly left the house. He shut the door and headed home. Halfway down the street he bumped into Reverend Glop. They were conversing politely when they heard a loud bang.

"Good Lord! Whatever was that?" asked the Reverend.

"Nurrr exploded," said Simon.

"Oh," said the Reverend, "Good day then."


1 comment
17 Aug 2017 - Jeff Wode
Oddly enough, exactly the same thing happened to me last Wednesday.
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