Moth Mondays with the Funtastic World of Hanna-Barbera: Wilford Wolf from The Kwicky Koala Show
Try as he might, Wilford could never achieve being able to capture (and eat) Kwicky Koala considering the surprising stealth of the Australian marsupial ⊠but he can relate his experiences with the food trucks as seem to line the bar districts around last-call time:
It was a dark night. Not quite dark and stormy night, but you could discern a light mist on the air in the cheap bar districts. Especially when last call was announced ahead of closing time, which can send the bar crowds out to the food trucks parked on side streets more than likely.
And this particular night, the food trucks seemed to offer the usual predictable fare of tacos, burgers, hot dogs andâbut hark! A food truck advertising âAustralian Meat Piesâ!! If I could never succeed in catching a certain koala bear, as shall remain nameless here, for my own culinary ends and purposes, at least I could try something in a typically Australian veinâas in a meat pie encrusted in your basic Crisco-enriched pie crust and topped with a mound of ketchup, or as the Aussies like to parse it, âtomato sauce.â And a paper cup of predictable hot tea, more than likely to be Liptonâs or Tetley.
At any rate, such was the queue of bar lovers, saturated with cheap beer for the most part, at the Australian Meat Pies food truck, drawn there presumably because of the sheer novelty, a desire to try Something Different in food-truck fare. The mist was still somewhat blatant, yet avoided crossing the proverbial line into full-on drizzle or rain ⊠and as I apporoached, the chef working that particular food truck that night handed me one of those âmeat piesâ and a cuppa, with the ketchup topping all.
And I suspected something rather queer was going on when I took one or two bites of that meat pie and discovered that such had the taste of those soy âburger crumblesâ of the sort pushed in certain circles as a meat alternative because of the protein content and enhanced (or so claimed) nutritive. I almost thought of pulling off a spit gag most serious, sensing that the food-truck âmeat piesâ were anything but, but sensing as Hunger was needing to be satiated at the moment, I played along with the exercise.
And, so it seemed, a few others who purchased said âmeat pies.â
As if to reinforce the sense that something was likely afoot, I began passing serious lupine gas before too long, which not even the tea (as turned out to be rather heavily diluted to maximise the potential supply) could keep under control. Even with a total stranger, sensing that I was smelling rather awful, handing me a couple of antacid tablets to correct the likely issue.
Even with that experience out of the way, this particular wolf could not manage to hide his embarrassment at being given less than what he expectedâimagine, asking for an âAustralian Meat Pieâ and getting instead one containing soy ersatz!! And Lord, I just hope I donât wind up going feminine over timeâŠ.
â⊠and thatâs the story from The Mothâ
(The preceding is an independent fanfic feature having no official connexion or association with The Moth. For more information, please to visit their website ⊠and tune in to The Moth Radio Hour weekends on your local public radio station; check your local radio listings for the day and time.) Â
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