Hell's Kitchen


by
Ann Huseman
© October 2006

Coming to you almost alive from Hell's Kitchen--where it's always hot, hot, hot-- the host for the roast, the sinner with the simmer, the demon of steam in' -- everyone clap your claws for our host, Emuuuu Legosi!

      "A great big hell-o out there, all you wizards and warlocks! I'd like to say how happy I am to be with you today-but, well, I'd be lying and you know where liars end up, right?"
      "Hell!"  A big scream and lots of rapidly beating hooves in the audience.
      "You got it, Amigos! But who says hell has to be hell, huh?"
      "Well, actually hell by definition is hell," a tiny voice squeaks from the audience.
      "Always a heckler at every show.  But hey, I can take the heat.  As a matter of fact, we're going to kick it up today with our menu for an impromptu Pagan get-together. So stay tuned, my little arrow-tailed fiends, you'll be begging for seconds of a little dish I call Dante's Inferno!  We'll be firing up the brimstone and your taste buds right after this commercial break."

      And now a message from HSC, the Hell Shopping Channel.

      "Vampira here. I know you're all just salivating in anticipation of Emu's latest concoction, but you'll be in total rapture...."
      "Excuse me.  Network Uber Demon here.  We apologize for the use of the word rapture. Vampira has been removed to a lower level.
       Furthermore, I'd like to apologize for the earplugs HSC featured last week.  Hey, they meant well. We all know how hard it is to get a good night's sleep with the constant gnashing and gnarling, wailing and weeping, and cry-baby whining. The shopping demon responsible for ordering the earplugs in wax has been banished to a lower level.
      And for those of you who are still on the waiting list for ice, we're still trying to work out a deal with Antarctica!  Who knew becoming a sister nation to hell would be such a big deal! Before you ask, ectoplasm is still on back order. But enough of the apologizing to all you sissy-boys, you're going to be running for your mediums, when I tell you Today's Special Value, a complete set of Wolfbane Schmuck Cauldrons. Stay tuned after Hell's Kitchen for HSC, the Hell Shopping Channel, and our new host, Mr. Hyde.
     
      And now back to Hell's Kitchen and your host, Emu Legosi.
     
      "Don't you zombies think ole Emu has been wasting eternity here while you were away! I just wish you could be here in the studio to smell the luscious aroma coming out of this cauldron! Wowee Zowee, Mama Mia! I could eat this whole cauldron myself!
      "You always do eat the whole cauldron yourself, you twit!" A bent twig of a woman rises from the back row.  "And it smells like old socks, that's what, or a wooly, stinky, wet dog!"
      "I've been to this studio thirteen times in the past thirteen days and I haven't tasted so much as a morsel, come to think on it.  And it doesn't smell like wet dog, it smells like dead skunk, it does!" An old man yells from the front row.
      Sorry, to interrupt.  Uber Demon here.  The two whining complainers in the audience have been banished to a lower level.  Now, does anyone else smell anything like wet dog, dead skunk, or rotten fish?
      Murmuring in the audience followed by a general settling sigh.
      Go ahead Emu.  I'm here if you need me.
      "Whew, hell of an audience today.  But a grudge and a pound of pasta wouldn't get me lasagna, if you know what I mean.  Okay, Forget about it.  Let's get cooking.  What do we always start with?"
      "Extra Virgin Virgins!"  The audience responds.
      "You got it, EVV. Now we got the EVV simmering in the cauldron, a little eye of newt, some wolf bane-not Schmuck-although I wouldn't mind throwing that cauldron thieving show-off into a bit of boiling oil, come to think on it.  Everyone knows Wolfbane Schmuck's Cauldrons are a rip-off of my Legosi Culinary Kettles. But hey, I don't hold a grudge, a grudge and an egg wouldn't get me an omelet."
      "Excuse me, Emu, there are flames and smoke coming from your cauldron." An audience member offers hesitantly.  "But it still smells delicious, not at all like doggie doo."
      "She's right, of course, and it doesn't smell like rotten eggs, either," another audience member offers.
      "Or old shoes, or camel's breath, or burnt hair," the audience mumbles.
      "Not to worry, it's all part of my patented flame-broiling technique.  Okay, so we got the EVV and a few spices erupting like Mount Vesuvius, next I'm gonna add a few dozen frog legs, a cup of spiders, and a handful of chicken lips.  Light on the chicken lips, folks, you don't want to overpower the delicious cobweb roux I'll be adding right after this message. So keep those claws off the dials and stay tuned, when we come back to-Kick it down!"
     
      And now a message from one of our sponsors, "The Opera Warlock Show".

      "Hello, this is Opera Warlock, and you will definitely want to watch the next "Opera" when our panel of experts ponders the question-is hell freezing over?   Is there a secret level of hell?  We'll have a special guest who says he's been there and not only is it frozen, but alien bodies are being stored in the ice!  That's right, folks, Hell is being visited by aliens from Space Hell! Dr Allen Hemlock will provide evidence that Hell has a secret government, the DIBs-Demons in Black, who are responsible for the cover-up. We'll also discuss the latest book club selection, Demonology-When is it Addictive? So, please join us for tomorrow's Opera show.  After all, do you really have anything better to do?"

      Uber Demon here.  We're sorry to announce that tomorrow's edition of the Opera Warlock Show has been cancelled.  We further wish to stress that the rumor about Hellion Aliens is entirely false.  There are no DIBS. Opera has been banished to a lower level.  And now back to "Hell's Kitchen" with Emu Legosi.
     
      "Okay, so we're back again.  I've got a nice roux simmering on the side, just a few more stirs and it will be time to add it to the cauldron.  I know what you're thinking; Emu why does my roux get all lumpy, while yours is always scrump-didle-icious?  
      "No, we were not wondering that at all!" A mustachioed man stands up from the front row and points at the roux.  "We're wondering why your gravy is moving!"
      "It is moving!" A red-haired woman rises from somewhere in the middle of the audience. 
      "There are screams coming from that gobbledygook!" A white-haired lady puts a claw over her mouth.  "It sounds like it's saying -flea the mast."
      "I distinctly heard-shake rugs, not boars."
      "Screams, schmeams," Emu takes a wooden spoon and beats at the roux, which continues to bubble and shout.  "It's just a few gas burps!"
     
      Uber Demon here.  Is everything all right Emu? 

      "Thanks, Uber, Baby, but I've got it under control.  The truth is this roux is still not quite ready.  But I guarantee, you're gonna love it, if you'll just hang with me folks!"
      "I'd like to hang something..."
      "Don't get ugly on me," Emu beats the roux again and it finally settles down to a slow bubble. "Time to run for the charcoal, you're gonna want to write this down. The secret ingredient to the perfect roux-tadum! -a handful of bleeding hearts! 
      "Free the Masses..." The roux sputters one last time.
      "The hearts give the roux that syrupy after burn. But the damned things come from liberals, and they just won't shut up." Emu beats the roux mercilessly and it finally stops muttering. "Now that the gravy is all nice and quiet, we'll just add it to the cauldron and presto spaghetti sauce, you've got yourself a perfect pot of Dante's Inferno.  I'll be passing out samples to the studio audience right after this commercial break!"

      "Julia Chills, here.  Tired of the "same old, same old" you get watching Hell's Kitchen?  Join me tomorrow at this time for "The Fallen Chef with Julia Chills".  We'll be putting together a perfect tailgate party for your next outing to the Coliseum. You won't want to miss my scrumptious recipes for deviled eggs, deviled ham, and yummy devil's food cake.  So, forget about those nasty cauldrons of glop you've been getting from Hell's Kitchen and join me right here on Hellivision 666 when my new show, "The Fallen Chef" debuts tomorrow in the same time slot. 

      And now back to Hell's Kitchen's final episode with Emu Legosi.

      "What do you mean final episode?"  Emu shouts at the announcer.  "I'm under contract!"
      "We'll all under contract!" A voice shouts from the audience.  "How do you think we got here?"
      "Okay, you want final episode, I'll give you final episode.  This stuff is swill!" Emu picks up the cauldron and throws it at the audience.  "Here, knock yourself out.  I hope you choke on it."
      "No need to get huffy," A woman in the front row wipes globs of gravy from her face. 
      "At least he's sharing," the woman next to her licks some of the mixture.  "Tastes like an oily rag!"
      "Of course it takes like an oily rag, and doggie doo, and wet camel, you idiots.  We're in hell!  What did you expect Delmonicos? You know what I want? I want a nice, thick, juicy steak or some Pasta Alfredo with a bottle of Pinot Noir.  I want to bust out of this hellhole.  Who wants to be in a club that would have me as a member? I hope Hell is freezing over and Hellion Aliens are crawling out of the woodwork!" 
     

Two demons in sunglasses and black sharkskin suits enter from the back of the stage, grab Emu and haul him off stage.

We interrupt this broadcast for a Special Edition of the It's Too Late News.  The Office of the Uber Demon has just been taken over by Hellions from Space. In keeping with the Hellion's demands, Hellivision 666's new line-up is now limited to a twenty-four hour repeat of Hex-Files.  Too Late News is now broadcasting from level Ten. Better bundle up, folks, cause its cold out there, and Ground Hog's Day in Hell isn't going to be Sonny and Cher!            

 

The End