21/01/2017
A Burns' Night Tale
A foul stench billows in over the Atlantic shores. A thick orange fog stains the rocks and rivers a luminous tan colour. The mountains weep with sorrow as a fat clootie dumpling casts its shadow over the highlands, looming over the landscape.
Grease seeps out ceaselessly from tight cloth bindings of the clootie. A thick gelatinous ooze covers all in its path. The highland creatures are doused in triglycerides. The putrid, mucilaginous, jellied lard flows through the rivers to the lowland valleys.
Even the proud shining Haggis MacBadger has retreated to the safety of the souterrain until the plague of lard has slumped down over the cliffs and into the oceans. Scotland is awash with oil. Alas, the illustrious MacBadger can no longer bear to see his homeland being slickened. He emerges from his greased hole into the light of a Scottish dawn. Amongst the flattened sodden grass, he spots his neighbours MacTatty and Neeper crawling from their hollows.
Together they must scrub the Scottish Highlands of its new solidifying crust. They trudge through the yellowing sludge to a nearby tavern. There they hatch a plan. The reign of the clootie pudding must be stopped.
Smoke rises from the chimney pots and the tavern is positively glowing, as furious smelting takes place indoors. MacBadger, MacTatty and Neeper emerge after weeks of work with a tangled mesh of steel rods. They stoke a fire atop the highest peak and broil in it some of the bountiful grease. Into this molten lard they place their basket of woven steel. MacTatty draws forth a gleaming blade and slices off a sliver of his flesh into the smoking oil. His pale white starchy flesh turns a bright golden brown, wisps of smoke carry the heady aroma deep into the wilds of the lowlands and beyond.
The delicate scent of MacTatty draws forth slippery tribespeople from the hillside crannogs. The droves of tribespeople follow their rumbling stomachs up to the highland peaks where the greasy smoke rises. They witness first-hand the sacrament of deep-fat frying. The sacred wire mesh design swept through highlands, a new craze had begun. Crannogs opened their doors to vast deliveries of clootie lard, the boiling pot stood proudly centre stage in the hearth. Every lard sodden beast and tuber were made crisp and beige in the cleansing fires.
Soon the highlands were scrubbed clean of the vile yellow jelly. And the cloth covered clootie was soon drained of its bountiful perfusion. Haggis MacBadger was once more crowned King of the Highlands, ousting the shrivelled remains of the clootie.
