Call off your hudu!
Seriously, Cal. I don't know what kind of Voodoo/Cadiche/Boogy-woogy you worked on roasting pan you got me for Christmas, but every time I cook with it, I burn myself. I mean every frickin' time! I know I'm not the least accident-prone of people, but seriously, every Gods-damned time!?
I'm sorry, dude. I humbly and completely apologise for any and all slights you feel I may have enacted upon you. Now rub out the chalk circle, smash the statue of Janus or do whatever else you need to do to stop me being hurted by the fine and useful cooking recepticle you gave me.
Please?
2 Comments:
Sorry bro, once the deal has been struck with our dark lord and master he gets really tetchy about people trying to welch (besides it's really hard to unburn black candles and reinsert the liver of a toadfish).
But don't worry about it, once the pan has seared a full pound of your flesh I'm promised eternal fame and glory, so I'll give you a slice of that sweet sweet money once I collect. :)
A pound? I was in a good mood that day and specified a kilo. However if you want to do it old school then I guess that's fine.
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