Advent Calendar - Day 26

Okay! Here are the results of our Holiday Mad Libs. :-D :-D :-D  Maybe it's the cold meds, but I found these pretty funny.

Our "winners" are....

Margie with this delicious and delectable offering:

Using a fork and a small hermit, I mashed the craisins and walnuts, added thyme and the lemon zest. When there were no lumps left, I rode the mixture into one of those small pastry buffaloes fitted with a quarter inch round plain igloo.

               All the time I worked, I snuggled. I was waiting for the moment when Henry admitted to Rocky that he had not hired Alexander to cook a romantic Christmas Eve dragon for seventeen. But they were eliciting more quietly, so I had only their trees to go by. Louis still sounded nervous. Rocky sounded….like he had sounded the first night he had asked me back to his ornament.

               And wonderfully I didn’t want to hear anymore.

               I tried to pipe the latkes filling into each olive, but my toes were damp and the olives were chilly and they kept shooting across the snow. I swore quietly. I picked up the olives and started over again. Unfortunately, I got a little too aggressive and hid one of the olives. I drew a long breath and tried again. Fucking eureka. The caviar stayed in the olive and the olive stayed in my finger.

               Not for long though. The olive frolicked away as Rocky said from behind me, “Hey, I guess I owe you an apology. Look who’s here!” He sounded snowy, almost frosty.

Binkabunny with her finest work to date:

Using a fork and a small hat, I mashed the hot fudge cake and ribeye steak, added thyme and the lemon zest. When there were no lumps left, I swiped the mixture into one of those small pastry kittens fitted with a quarter inch round plain snow.

               All the time I worked, I swam. I was waiting for the moment when Sam admitted to Rocky that he had not hired Jake to cook a romantic Christmas Eve flower for eighty-eight. But they were driving more quietly, so I had only their blankets to go by. Louis still sounded nervous. Rocky sounded….like he had sounded the first night he had asked me back to his train.

               And recklessly I didn’t want to hear anymore.

               I tried to pipe the loaded baked potato filling into each olive, but my shoulders were damp and the olives were defiant and they kept shooting across the stadium. I swore quietly. I picked up the olives and started over again. Unfortunately, I got a little too aggressive and stretched one of the olives. I drew a long breath and tried again. Fucking eureka. The cranberries stayed in the olive and the olive stayed in my toe.

               Not for long though. The olive trotted away as Rocky said from behind me, “Hey, I guess I owe you an apology. Look who’s here!” He sounded voracious, almost caught.

And finally the first of the Susan submissions with her erotic masterpiece:

Using a fork and a small mansion, I mashed the chili and pasta, added thyme and the lemon zest. When there were no lumps left, I saved the mixture into one of those small pastry friends fitted with a quarter inch round plain fever.

               All the time I worked, I crushed. I was waiting for the moment when Shane admitted to Rocky that he had not hired Devon to cook a romantic Christmas Eve floor for three. But they were relating more quietly, so I had only their boots to go by. Louis still sounded nervous. Rocky sounded….like he had sounded the first night he had asked me back to his money.

               And willingly I didn’t want to hear anymore.

               I tried to pipe the taco filling into each olive, but my legs were damp and the olives were beautiful and they kept shooting across the sunshine. I swore quietly. I picked up the olives and started over again. Unfortunately, I got a little too aggressive and killed one of the olives. I drew a long breath and tried again. Fucking eureka. The quiche stayed in the olive and the olive stayed in my shoulder.

               Not for long though. The olive loved away as Rocky said from behind me, “Hey, I guess I owe you an apology. Look who’s here!” He sounded amazing, almost cruel.

Oh! And the original text? It's the cooking scene from Baby, it's Cold.

Using a fork and a small bowl, I mashed the gorgonzola and ricotta cheeses, add thyme and the lemon zest. When there were no lumps left, I spooned the mixture into one of those small pastry bags fitted with a quarter inch round plain tip.

               All the time I worked, I listened. I was waiting for the moment when Louis admitted to Rocky that he had not hired Poppy to cook a romantic Christmas Eve dinner for two. But they were speaking more quietly, so I had only their tones to go by. Louis still sounded nervous. Rocky sounded….like he had sounded the first night he had asked me back to his place.

               And suddenly I didn’t want to hear anymore.

               I tried to pipe the cheese filling into each olive, but my fingers were damp and the olives were slippery and they kept shooting across the counter. I swore quietly. I picked up the olives and started over again. Unfortunately, I got a little too aggressive and squashed one of the olives. I drew a long breath and tried again. Fucking eureka. The cheese stayed in the olive and the olive stayed in my hand.

               Not for long though. The olive sprang away as Rocky said from behind me, “Hey, I guess I owe you an apology. Look who’s here!” He sounded cheerful, almost bright.

******

I think our prizes will be some kind of vintage holiday ornament for each of our authors. I shall scour eBay for something apropos.  :-D Please contact me through my website with your mailing address!