It is in fact that Victorian, or Leopoldian, hi-tech Belgian apparatus, the chip raquet.
It is used as follows; mustachioed gentleman in stripy jacket bowls potato at other mustachioed gentleman, who swats it hard with the above apparatus, causing it to fly into chips immediately. The chips are collected, fried, and served to local oiks and urchins but only if they clap and cry "très bien swatté, monsieur!".
The reason it's dusty is that the Leopoldian sport of chip tennis has long been in abeyance due to industrial chip-slicing machines, and it has been down the back of a filing cabinet in the Municipal Domestic Arts Museum of Erps-Kwerps for well over a century.
P.S. - It's a good job Aunty didn't enter Alan's cow flatulence contest. Those yaks would be transversing a whole different mountain range. Excellent explanation by the way. A double helping of flipper pie for you!
13 Comments:
the back of your refrigerator. final answer.
Yep! Back of the frige! I recognize that dust.... :(
Having lived behind a fridge for the first nine years of my life, I recognise that gubbins instantly.
Back of the fridge and you need to dust.
Heat exchange unit for a 'fridge? WRONG!
It's a scruncheon dicer.
/please send salt beef in lieu of seal flipper pie
Its a heated towel holder for someone who lives sideways.
Is it something the badgers dragged in?
It is in fact that Victorian, or Leopoldian, hi-tech Belgian apparatus, the chip raquet.
It is used as follows; mustachioed gentleman in stripy jacket bowls potato at other mustachioed gentleman, who swats it hard with the above apparatus, causing it to fly into chips immediately. The chips are collected, fried, and served to local oiks and urchins but only if they clap and cry "très bien swatté, monsieur!".
The reason it's dusty is that the Leopoldian sport of chip tennis has long been in abeyance due to industrial chip-slicing machines, and it has been down the back of a filing cabinet in the Municipal Domestic Arts Museum of Erps-Kwerps for well over a century.
your hannibal-lecter mask.
Sigh. I can never fool Aunty Marianne. One seal flipper pie, by express post, to Belgium.
SD - You, too? We were evil twins separated at birth, weren't we?
P.S. - It's a good job Aunty didn't enter Alan's cow flatulence contest. Those yaks would be transversing a whole different mountain range. Excellent explanation by the way. A double helping of flipper pie for you!
I'm too late for the contest, but I'm glad because I wouldn't have guessed it anyway and it would have driven me crazy not to know!
Yes, who would have expected I'd own a Belgian chip raquet. I'm more sophisticated that even I suspected.
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