Don't trust the Mystery Meat

11th October - The Wonky Donkey - Noon

Zelda raised an eyebrow at the well dressed man entering the pub; he was a tall man, at least six inches taller than her. She watched him find an empty seat at a small table, but only after he’d given the room a visual examination. Then he beckoned her over which she thought to be a haughty act since they’d already made eye contact and social protocol pretty much assured she would have approached his table regardless. Not for the first time today she considered she might not be made of the right stuff for this gig. She did seem to have a discerning eye for the unsparing tippers which had already landed a few extra coin in her pocket and this fellow showed promise in that scope.

She strutted over to his table and saw him looking over the menu. “Welcome to the Wonky Donkey, formerly known as The Three Legged Mare. My name is Zelda.” She leaned over to point out one article of cuisine in particular. “All dishes are tasty and filling, or so I’ve been told, but I’d suggest steering clear of the sausage.” She cupped one side of her mouth with her hand and whispered, “We don’t serve it often, thankfully.” She stood up straight and beamed at him. “If you opted for a liquid lunch you wouldn’t be the first and I’m not here to judge.”

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