[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Yo yo Australia, and welcome to Cook for Your Life! the show where gourmet cooking really is a matter of life or death! I’m your host, Michael Mekong Delta Dempster, your friendly neighbourhood chart-topping lyricist with a mad flow.For those of you who missed last night’s episode, here’s the scoop.Our panel of judges decided to really up the stakes for our death-row inmates and challenge them to a taste test of their very own maximum-security-prison beef stroganoff.Sound easy? Far from it, ladies.With only nine contestants remaining out of the original dozen murderers, paedos and West Coast supporters, the trick is to name all thirty-six of the ingredients in the prison stew.The first person to get one wrong will be eliminated from the competition immediately, and eliminated from life itself shortly after.Yes, that’s right, folks—straight from the kitchen to the electric chair! Out of the frying pan and into the fire! Who will guess wrong? Will it be viewer favourite Tricia Q who finally meets the grim reaper? Tricia’s notorious of course for going postal at the DFO in Essendon and trying to gun down a dozen of her fellow bargain hunters.Or will it be not-so-gentle giant Bubba Tanning, the cop killer we all love to hate, despite the awesome juniper-crusted beef carpaccio with fig and chilli vinegar that he wowed our judges with last week? All will be revealed on tonight’s sizzling episode of Cook for Your Life! sponsored by Handee Ultra towels, absorbing even the toughest bloodstains after you’ve shivved someone in the showers.Oh, and the last chef standing gets a cookbook deal, a hunnerd large and a pardon from the judge.Dude, the ratings will be intergalactic.Gots me the stamina of a dromedary,Fightin’ claws of a crested cassowary,A vocabulary so extraordinaryThey call me the human dictionary.My flow is so revolutionarySometimes I just speak in binary,One zero one zero one zero one,That’s certainly out of the ordinary.I’m so hot my nickname is January,My lap is where bitches seek sanctuary.My position ain’t doggy, it’s missionary,Wanna bust a nut not a capillary.Won’t see me readin’ books in no library,Ain’t no fun when you’re on your solitary.This shit is real dawg, it ain’t imaginary,You say literary, I say unsanitary.Now my secretary say my itinerary be arbitrary,On the contrary this tour gonna be legendary.This mercenary attitude of mine be hereditary,This one’s on me, son—don’t thank me, it’scomplimentary.Probs some truth in there at the end.Keep thinking Freddy’s gonna grass me up and Corporal Wallace will let his dogs off the leash.Gots to keep off the main roads and away from any kind of town where the motherfucker might have eyes.It’s a long way to Brisvegas when you’re touring the cockroach byways of New Southey.It’s gonna take me fucken forever to get there.Least in these small towns there’s always a couple of tweakers looking to score or teenagers willing to skim fifty bucks from their mum’s purse just so’s they can try something new.Don’t exactly feel too proud of myself selling them crank but I gots to raise some chedda somehow since I done spent up big on supply.I’m in and out of places so fast I don’t even clock their names.Roll up to a milk bar in the C-dore, scope who’s lurkin’, jaw with them for a while to get the lay of the land, cement some deals an’ then bounce.Figure even if one of Ben’s crew eyeballs me an’ makes the call, I be already gone ’fore I gets braced.Gonna be lookin’ over my shoulder everywhere I go for the next month though, paranoid as a fucken andy-roid.Sooner I can cash in and kick back on down to M-Town, the better.Maybes I shouldn’t have left Freo in the first fucken place.Sick of my stepdad, but.Couldn’t stand another thirty minutes with the…shit, I almost called him a motherfucker but I can’t, I can’t be using that particular favourite phrase of mine when I talks about him.It’s an accurate fucken description of what he’s specifically doing, sexually and otherwise.Asshole be fuckin’ her and fucking her up.Worst kind of twofer.Now I gots wheels I’m of a mind to head back over there an’ wait for him to come stumbling out the RSL some Friday night, clock the cunt right in the dome with a bat, bundle him into the boot of the C-dore an’ head on out to the cliffs at Blackwall Reach.Drunks always be falling or jumping off there so ain’t nobody’d bat a fucken eyelid to find his bloated body washed up on the beach a week later, all ate by sharks an’ shit.Sure, Mum would cry at his funeral but she’d get over it and ain’t nobody who saw the bruises on her face wouldn’t be thinking he didn’t have it comin’.Thank fuck he can’t get her pregnant.Way I heard it, she got her tubes tied after she had me an’ didn’t have much choice in the matter.Fucken violation of a woman’s rights if you ask me but she had the epilepsy real bad back then and the surgeons, those fucken butchers, advised she be sterilised in case of a repeat incident.When I was old ’nuff to understand, she told me they wanted to flush me right on out of her belly too at the time but she weren’t having none of that shit.Had her hands full anyways with my stepsisters.After my first stepdad run out, she had a couple of boyfriends but nothing serious until Tony come along with his instant fucken family, straight out the packet just add hot water, homes.He seemed all right at first.Had a tragic story and two girls he was strugglin’ with, boo friggen hoo.Ended up stopping with us for most of my teenage life.Got me into the Dockers, at least, I’ll give the fucker that.Tried out for them himself when he was younger but didn’t make the grade.Was in the army too there for a while, but that didn’t last either.Don’t know what happened to him, it’s not like he got barbecued in Afghanistan like Corporal Wallace or anything.He never even shipped out overseas.Always figured he must’ve been getting harassed or something and come up short when it was time to kick back.Probs ended up as someone’s bitch in the showers.Whatevs.All I knows is he washed out and came on home ready to show us what they’d taught him to do with his fists.Mum copped it the worst, but I weren’t far behind.Tried fighting back but that just made him angrier.Broke couple of my ribs one time an’ his precious girls had to step up and put theyselves in harm’s way just to make him stop.Please, Daddy, please.They was all right, I s’pose.Didn’t have much in common with them since they was a couple years younger than me and into really bad music but least they stuck up for me a few times, though it was probs just so their precious dad didn’t wind up in the joint [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]