Once upon a time, in a place near the Ellabbee River, which, by the way, is as wide as the Nile is long, and longer than all of Africa, there is a cafe.
This is a lovely cafe. They have a wide menu, great atmosphere, and superb chefs. Granny Coffin, who owns Coffin Cafe, has employed her grandson as head chef. His is was Robert. Or, more specifically, Baby Bob. He is two years old.
Baby Bob’s right hand man is his cousin’s kangaroo, Pet. Pet is a marvelous cook, an old paw at the culinary arts, and he knows how to made a wonderful wombat stew (complete with emu feathers.)
As is the custom, every fifteen years, the Health and Safety officer has to come around and poke his nose into other people’s business and send offenders off to the Prison for the Unhealthy and Unsafe.
The time came for Dr. Daniel Pannesmoore to go to Coffin Cafe. The same Coffin Cafe, featured for its lovely gardens (they plant gnarled old Joshua trees, yellow grass, and a beautiful creeping vine of poison ivy.) Coffin Cafe, where half the town ate, because of Pet and Baby Bob’s wonderful cooking.
“Good day,” said Dr. Daniel Pannesmoore.
“Who are you?” asked Granny Coffin.
“The Health and Safety officer,” said the Health and Safety officer.
“Go right in.”
And he did. Of course, entering the kitchen, he was out raged to see Pet chopping onions (unhealthy) and Baby Bob stirring Vegemite custard at the stove (unsafe. And unsavoury.) So he said, “You’re coming to prison!”
They went to the dismal place, with its paper walls and glass roof. Hardened criminals and overweight people watched as Baby Bob and Pet were locked up.
That was the end of that. And the story would end there, if it wasn’t for Cousin Jeff.
Now Cousin Jeff was taller than a cedar tree and thinner than a shoelace. He was Granny Coffin’s son’s son, Baby Bob’s cousin, and Pet the kangaroo’s owner. That’s Cousin Jeff.
He was also a bright thinker. Top of his class. (Despite the fact he’d been in second grade for six years.) He had the brilliant idea to bust Baby Bob and Pet out of prison.
It was a simple matter of balloons and distraction.
Granny Coffin went in, sat down on the floor of the waiting room, and started screaming, this distracting Dr. Daniel Pannesmoore. Cousin Jeff took out his sling shot, filled some balloons with water, and shot the paper prison walls down.
Baby Bob and Pet ran out (and of course, so did a lot of unhealthy and unsafe people. But you can hardly blame them.)
Granny Coffin continues to sit on a rocking chair in front of Coffin Caff, knitting egg-shaped hats, Cousin Jeff continues to repeat second grade, and Baby Bob and Pet cook in the kitchen making onion flavoured Vegemite custard to this day.
Any time you’re in town, stop by. The menu, like I said, is simply delightful.