By Sadie Maskery
Aunt Frances always hated men
And loathed living beside the sea
Despised the tourists on the prom
And basically humanity.
She much preferred stray cats and dogs
Which made her choice of business queer
When her partner popped her clogs –
A fish and chip shop by the pier.
“New management” the sign proclaimed
When she closed her chosen gaff.
She needed time, Aunt Fan explained,
To make it a more classy caff.
In fact, it was to hone her art –
Her cooking up till then had been
More like follow-through from fart
Than le fry-up haute cuisine.
Opening day! Aunt Frances smiles
“Today the fish and chips are free”
She grabs my arm -“Not you, dear child,
You hate them too, you’re just like me.”
A bunch of locals soon arrives;
Greedy, cruel, vicious men,
Spiteful, shallow, stupid wives.
“Where’s the free stuff, gizzit then.”
Lovingly she tests the oil
Chips potatoes, fries them up
And drops the fish into a bowl
Full of creamy, luscious glup.
They cram their gobs with deep-fried bliss.
“Bloody hell who would have known
that the bitch could cook like this?”
Then the bastards start to moan.
I gaze at Aunty Frances’ face
She grins when I ask “What’s the matter?”
“Don’t worry dear, it’s just a case
Of poison in Aunt Fanny’s batter.”