Welcome to Out Of The Cauldron

This is Out of the Cauldron, coming to you live from the Pit of Despair-

Hold on. What are you doing?

I’m introducing our new blog.

And you’re doing a bad impersonation of a radio broadcaster because...?

I was trying to be creative.

It isn’t working.

What’s your point?

We’re not broadcasting, we’re blogging. And it’s not so much on air as online.

Thanks for that, I’m sure our readers needed the clarification.

You’re welcome.

Really, I’m sure they all got confused for a moment and tried to adjust their volume settings in order to hear us better.

You’re being sarcastic.

You noticed.

I’ve been known to have sporadic moments of perspicacity.

If only your wit came with an off switch.

It does. It’s called sleep.

Is there anything else you’d like to clarify?

Well, I wouldn’t say this is live. Sort of, rather... undead.

All right smart arse, shall we move on?

You did ask.

More fool me.

Well, I’ve always thought you were a bit of a dunce. I bet you were a court jester in a past life.

And you would have had a regular appointment with the hangman’s noose.

Actually, I rather like to think I was burned at the stake.

It wouldn’t surprise me.

What are you trying to say?

As I was saying –

- before you were so rudely interrupted –

- by you –

- sorry. Jelly baby?

Thanks.

Our blog?

Yes. This is our very new and impossibly ridiculous blog, Out of the Cauldron.

The cauldron is full of dark and terrible things –

- well, if you didn’t keep leaving your socks in there -

- it’s bigger on the inside –

- like Mary Poppins’ carpet bag –

- or a dimensionally transcendental blue wooden box -

- and you never know what you might find in there –

- stick your hand in, we dare you –

But first, a few things about us. We started this blog to share our common interests.

Such as books –

- food and baking –

- books –

- leprechauns –

- books –

- fairytales, chocolate, Monty Python, Doctor Who -

- books –

- our plans for world domination –

- boo- oooh, can we?

What, take over the world?

We can use the Horsemen and everything.

You want to unleash the Apocalypse and rain down hell and devastation over the entire world?

Sounds like fun.

I can’t.

Party pooper.

No really, I can’t. I have plans this week.

So... next Tuesday, then?

I’ll pencil it in.

Use pen. I like the permanency of indelible ink.

Why does it sound like you’re planning to eat textas for lunch?

I have strange dietary habits.

No kidding.

Like you can comment.

What is that supposed to mean?

Oh... nothing. Only I’m not the one with the cupcake fetish.

I do NOT have a cupcake fetish!

Says the person who calls herself the Baker –

- for the purpose of this blog –

- to indicate that you like to bake things –

- obviously –

- and you make more cupcakes than anything else –

- cupcakes are good –

- granted, but they do tend to make an alarmingly frequent appearance in your kitchen, despite a myriad of alternative culinary possibilities –

- So? You love my cupcakes!

Well, duh. They’re awesome.

Then why are you complaining?

I’m not, I’m having a go at you. It’s an entirely different kettle of fish.

Why are there fish in your kettle?

Spring cleaning. My goldfish felt like a change of scenery.

You don’t even have goldfish!

Oh. Are you sure?

I’m never sure when it comes to the freakish world you live in.

I suppose they could be some form of aquatic slug.

That just happened to show up in your kettle?

Or a mutation of sentient slime. I’ve been meaning to clean out that corner cupboard for a while now.

I’m never drinking tea at your house again.

It’s probably for the best. Besides, I think a family of spiders has taken up residence in my teapot.

What took up residence in your skull when your brain walked out?

Anchovies.

I thought it was ice cream?

Anchovy-flavoured ice cream.

Sounds… well… disgusting actually.

Wonderful, I can appeal to the superficiality of modern society and market myself as a new diet trend. I’ll make a fortune.

We could just send people a photo of you. No one would want to eat after that.

Well!

I’m right though, aren’t I?

Yes, I suppose my gorgon like features have been known to suppress appetite and induce vomiting.

We could make enough from the sale of your photo to start a cake decorating business!

That’s your dream, not mine.

Then what is your life ambition?

To take over the world with an army of flying monkeys.

Er... I don’t think it will happen.

I know. I’ve been trying to genetically engineer the monkeys by grafting on avian DNA, but so far the lab results have been disappointing.

No, I mean... Well it’s not exactly realistic, is it?

What does reality have to do with it?

Nothing, in your case.

That tangent was an exercise in redundancy.

Well, if you didn’t insist on mentioning flying monkeys in every conversation we have…

Flying monkeys are cool.

Apparently, so are bow ties.

The Doctor rocks!

Quiet or I’ll make you eat fish custard.

Sounds tasty.

Moving on. I am The Baker. Otherwise known as Queen of the Kitchen.

-Unless there is washing up to be done-

And the nitwit that keeps interrupting is Ex.

The diabolical Lady Ex.

I love that I outrank you.

Don’t get too comfortable. I’m plotting to overthrow the government and steal your throne.

Do all your plans involve hostile takeovers?

I refuse to answer on the grounds that I don’t want to incriminate myself.

I’ll take that as a yes. Anyway, back to discussing me…

Your favourite subject.

I love to bake and try new recipes. So you can look forward to a lot of posts from me with pictures and tips from my baking experiments. And from Ex -

- I like blood, magic and things that go bump in the night.

You are a thing that goes bump in the night.

That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.

Sadly, that’s probably true.

From me you can expect posts so weird they will come with a “Warning, your face may melt off” label.

Trust me; they’ll be mostly about The Doctor.

Hey! I have other interests! I like reading –

-being strange-

- eating

- torturing the less intelligent-

 - Sci-Fi and fantasy

- turning people to stone with a glance-

 - sleeping

 -Mmm sleep.

And many other things that should never be written down. And if they are written down they should be locked in a box and buried on the moon for 17 years before being sent back to earth, shredded and sprinkled on a cheese pizza. The pizza must then be ingested by The Baker, and I hope it gives her a stomach ache.

Mmm pizza.

Articulate, aren’t you.

Mmm articulate.

I swear, you’ve got less intelligence than the chicken’s pants.

Why thank you. Anyway, I’ve got things to bake and other posts to write so can we wrap this up?

Be my guest.

That’s quite enough of our weirdness for one post. Stay tuned for our first baking experiment!

-Again with the ridiculous radio announcer impersonation!

Until next time readers,

Ex & The Baker.

Sneak peek at coming posts: