Post-breakfast bliss in the PaliSchmutz household.
Palinode: That was a good breakfast.
Schmutzie: For supper I'm going to cook those sausages from the Italian Star Deli.
Palinode: In that case, I want a traditional Sunday sausage supper. I want to pull out, all the stops.
Schmutzie: Um. Okay.
Palinode: First we clear out all the furniture from the living room. Then we kick off with a prayer to St. Barbara.
Schmutzie: A sausage prayer?
Palinode: She's the patron saint of a nice bit of sausage.
Schmutzie: That kind of makes her sound like a slut.
Palinode: How dare you.
Schmutzie: Or a hermaphrodite.
Palinode: It's been rumoured. Immediately after the prayer, we don the wooden hats -
Schmutzie: We don't have any wooden hats!
Palinode: You didn't pick up the wooden hats with the sausage? Okay then, we can make some paper hats. I guess.
Schmutzie: I can live with paper hats.
Palinode: Then we retrieve the special cutlery, which are known as a fork and a knife.
Schmutzie: That's special to you?
Palinode: The tradition stems from medieval times, when forks and knives were pretty special. Serfs would murder a nobleman and steal his cutlery for their sausage supper.
Schmutzie: We're running pretty low on noblemen around here.
Palinode: That's why we murder homeless people now and place the cutlery on their bodies. It's all symbolic nowadays. And then we tuck in for a nice bit of sausage.
Schmutzie: That makes more sense.
Palinode: I can't help but notice that you're okay with murdering a bum, but you get upset over wooden hats.
Schmutzie: I don't care what we do, so long as we don't have to wear hats made of wood.