Welcome to Beastly Tales. Each has a message, a moral. All are meant to have an element of humour. Naturally, any names included do not depict real folk but are included as part of the joke.
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(As with Beastly Banter Beastly Tales is written and illustrated by Richard.)
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THE QUEEN’S CHEF
Orin Weaselbug was a chef to the Queen,
He loved to tell all, where ever he’d been,
The natural assumption was the Queen of Great Britain,
Which left folk in awe, undeniably smitten,
With such an important and famous position,
Equally important to the Queen’s Physician.
As he toured around the wide, wide Globe,
He was always hired where ever he’d probe.
For a position of top Chef, in a fine hotel,
Yes, his dubious reputation served him well.
Why was his reputation considered dubious by some?
Because if into his history you did plumb,
You would uncover that all is not what it was said to be,
In fact Orin undoubtedly though such a liability,
For, indeed, he had been Chef to a queen,
But such a queen lived not in Buckingham Palace,
Instead in Gay Revue Bar called the Poison Chalice.
Never-the-less Weaselbug didn’t find it obscene,
That his useful reputation as Chef to a Queen,
Was based on a premise, misleading false,
More of a gay Rhumba – than a Royal Waltz.
Orin Weaselbug arrived in Sydney, Australia,
Touting his success, not wanting a failure.
He went to one of the leading restaurants gastronomic,
To ask for a job to ease his situation economic.
When he viewed his business card, “Chef to the Queen”,
The restaurant owner went right out to glean,
What such a distinguished chef had in mind,
Whether he just wished to be dined and wined.
Weaselbug did not dilly dally about,
He left the owner in definitely no doubt,
That he was after the restaurants top job.
Ready to divest such a title from the incumbent slob.
The restaurant owner thought, perhaps, a gourmet night,
With planning they could especially in-vite,
The city’s top food critics, gourmets and gourmands,
To an extravaganza, tantalizing their demands.
Now the current top Chef of the restaurant in question,
Thought that Weaselbug looked familiar, it gave him indigestion.
Until, at last, he had the solution,
The clarity moment in his mental pollution,
This Weaselbug creature had, indeed, been a chef to a queen,
But not THE Queen in a Royal Palace.
Only a queen in a gay bar, The Poison Chalice.
He, in an excited frenzy, arose,
Eager to unveil, unravel and expose,
What a charade this Weaselbug did play,
Yes, he would do it at once, this very day.
And so, the grand event, was called off,
The restaurant’s patrons, their usual menu did scoff.
And as for Weaselbug, Chef to a Queen,
Just no sign of him, but you could see where he’d been!