The End of All Things

I have the single greatest anecdote in the history of the world to tell today...

As you know, there are certain universal laws that must be maintained at all costs, or the whole of existence will be unravelled. Rules such as: you cannot exceed the speed of light, you can never encounter a new joke on Penguin biscuits (see my post "King Penguin"), and that all X-Factor winners will have a number 1 single, then release an album that some people buy, and then never be heard from again. And, crucially, Stephen does not eat fish.

Fish and egg, really, are the two main types of food I don't eat (caveat: I'll eat egg that's part of things, so will eat pancakes, mayonaisse, and so forth. But no boiled eggs, no scrambled eggs, and no fried eggs).

But, of late I've been reconsidering my stance on fish. There are two main reasons for this. As we know, fish is absolutely loaded with essential oils, and is really good for the brane. More importantly, every Thursday the canteen at work does fish and chips for lunch, and it always looks sooooo inviting.

It should be pointed out at this stage that I have eaten fish in the past. In a terrible crime against existence, my parents used to insist on serving fish on occasion, and requiring us to eat whatever was cooked. And, unlike Claire, I did not have handy shoes in which to hide the unwanted fish.

More recently, I ate fish, so the legend says, on Good Friday 2003, in the Netherlands (there was no choice - it was fish or nothing, and Mrs Barr brooks no rejection of food). And, in fact, I ate fish a mere handful of weeks before that in the Cadence canteen (in that case there was a choice: fish or egg. The vegetarian option was gone. And the girl behind the counter would have been terribly disappointed had I had nothing - and she was really nice - so fish it was. Naturally, she had no trouble laughing at me for taking the fish even after stating I really don't like it. But that's a whole other story).

Aware of the dangers to the universe inherent in my consumption of fish, I forebore. However, I've been particularly angry this week, and also ran out of sandwich fillings after yesterday (due to a miscalculation in my weekly shop, and my adventures with tacos on Tuesday). So I cast caution to the winds, and decided to have fish for lunch.

The morning dawn muggy, and all morning dark clouds gathered over my location, an omen of darker times to come. On the walk from the office to the canteen, I fancied I could hear angelic voices straining out in the manner of "O Fortuna". But I was not to be swayed. The universe had to go. I ordered the fish.

I sat down, having gathered my cutlery, the instrument of the destruction of the universe on a tray before me. I ate a chip, teasing the universe with death. Then, I cut a piece of fish, made my peace with all that is...

and it was at that precise moment that the fire alarm went off.

The events that happened next are somewhat of a blur. My understanding is that the Fish Inspection and Replacement Emergency Brigade were called, and arrived in a shiny red engine. An heroic F.I.R.E.man must have swept in, replaced the fish of doom with some sort of mock fish, and saved the day.

That can be the only explanation. How else could the universe still exist?

Oh, and noticably, the weather has now cleared up, and once more there is blazing sunshine...