I guess I'd like to write a story, a parable if you will, some might call it a fable, others a myth, but it will be remembered for all time by those involved.
I suppose it all started on a sunny fall afternoon, on a Tuesday I believe. Now there are some who will tell you that nothing ever happens on Tuesday, but this is simply untrue.
So I'm walking down the street minding my own business when I walk in front of this mexican restaurant called Poncho Villa's. Now I should have just kept on walking because I personally know that Poncho Villa Tequila is naturally flavored with diesel extract. But I'm feeling a rumble in my stomach that makes me sorta of think of those AM/PM commercials with that talking stomach, or maybe Slim Jim commercials, but honestly the whole idea of sentient beings in my stomach sort of freaked me out, so I thought I'd give them a killing blow.
That's right two En Feugo Nuclear (pronounced nucleeyarrrrrr!!!!) Los Cumpleanos Enchiladas. So I step inside like some sort of skinny un-mustachioed version of a 19th century Mexican Hombre badass (and again, without guns besides my ten inch biceps and not packing anything but Chewlies Bubble Gum)
"GREETINGS AMIGO", comes the cry to my left, it's from Alejandro my feisty mexican friend who often pretends he is the worlds most dangerous mexican ninja. "We have something special for you today my friend, it has just come from the secret vaults of Lake Titicaca" (The fact that this lake is not in Mexico was unknown to me at the moment, but could be important later) I naturally inquired as what exactly this new special thing was, as I always like special things, as long as they are sufficiently special. Regardless, the truth of his next words would haunt my dreams for all time.
"It is called The Green Sauce", was his triumphant reply.
I was pleased at this new green sauce, I like green things for the most part. Trees are green, they are good, Irish are green and they're a lively sort and Samuel L. Jackson wore a green hat in The Long Kiss Goodnight, so I was looking forward to some green business to quell this stomach uprising.
Soon enough my great feast had arrived, topped with a heaping pile of Green Sauce. Now note that when one usually describes what is generally known as sauce, they usually use words like slathered or covered or drowned or found to be a witch, but not heaping pile. Heaping pile is better of reserved for something like stew or The Musketeer or something my senile grandma might leave. But heaping pile it was, almost so much so that I couldn't distinguish what was beneath it, I dug in anyway.
The taste that soon followed was something that I can not quite describe. It was not entirely unlike strained porkskin loaf, but almost more of a cross between Bananas and that weird aftertast that popcorn flavored jellybellies give you when you expell them forcefully from your esophogus. But it wasn't too bad, more of a delicacy than an everyday thing. When I went for the second bite, I knew something was wrong.
I suppose the first thing that tipped me off was that my enchiladas had turned from normal food type things to a sort of naked cyborg 3-D hologram of Rue McClanahan. Now the naked nubile nubblings of my favorite Golden Girl were not entirely unpleasant, but I was sort of pissed that they had eaten all of my enchilada. Couldn't that cyborg left some for us, I said to the new Albert Einstein head that had grown out of my shoulder. I suppose the shock and surprise of one of history's smartest men spontaneously growing out of my shoulder made me think I might want to leave. Knowing that we were about to be raided at any moment by a bloodthirsty gang of Nazi Secretaries. I grabbed a fork and a tiny bottle of Tapatio Sauce and headed for the door. At this point I sort of blacked out, and when I came to I found myself in the lumber yard of a town fifteen miles away wearing a bellydancers outfit and one of those oversized birthday sombreros
Epilogue
So I guess this tale was one of caution and adventure. Me and Einstein sit here on a large feather bed counting atoms and being generally cool. Who knows what the future holds, but Einstein seems to think it has something to do with Waffles or Raspberry Shakes.