SONG 1: Introduction and Fanfare
(Instrumental with singing - entire cast.)
Once upon a time there was a lovely silver ladle that lived in the cutlery drawer of a nice old kitchen. Day after day it did its ladle jobs in quiet contentment, happy to have such a good home. It had many dear friends amongst the other cutlery, but perhaps the dearest one of all was the gnarled old potato masher. Many was the night, their work over for the day, that they spent discussing (for although utensils do not talk as humans know talking they still communicate – perhaps on a molecular level involving atoms and stuff) subjects as diverse as teaspoons, drawer dividers, washing up liquid and all the other things which make up a utensil’s world.
SONG 2: The Ballad of the Beautiful Silvery Ladle
Let me tell you how nice and pure it was
Like the good in moonlight
See it softly shine
Lying unassuming 'midst the ordinary cutlery
Content because
Everything is fine
Aaah, see it softly shine
Aaah, everything is fine
Silvery reflections of the things
That are surrounding it
Perfect stainless steel
Gently gleaming in the drawer
Next to the potato masher
Awaiting the next meal
Aaah, perfect stainless steel
Aaah, awaiting the next meal
It lived a simple life
It found contentment in mundanity
The touch of soup and stew
In the washing up bowl
Or lying, drying on the rack
Always meek and true
Aaah, the touch of soup and stew
Aaah, always meek and true
The months pass calmly for the implements
Dull but useful
Today is like tomorrow
Sorted contentedly in their various compartments
Little did they know
For every light there is a shadow…
Sadly, their idyll was not to last, for even the most wholesome of kitchens are vulnerable to utter evil. We all need to watch out for utensils from the dark side. The wooden spoon which invaded the peaceful haven in question was particularly nasty.
What happened was this: The god of the kitchen (a 37 yr old housewife called Margaret Chunning) noticed that all her wooden spoons were getting on a bit and decided to buy a new one. Later that day she was in a charity shop (Save the Children I think – does it really matter?) when she noticed an ornate wooden spoon. Now, if it had been in the section marked “Ancient Malevolent Entities” she probably would not have bought it, but unfortunately the lady in charge of cutlery cataloguing (Gladys Mindgas, 93) was getting on a bit and had misfiled it under “Lovely Safe Utensils”.
37p and a “thankyou, deary” later the dreadful deed was done.
SONG 3: The Evil Wooden Spoon
Born from the wood of a twisted oak
Carved by a man with an empty soul
Found in the hand of a dying nun
The Evil Wooden Spoon
Every dish it makes it stirs in strife
Cups fall helpless from the wall
O pity the kitchen that contains
The Evil Wooden Spoon
Once it’s found you, you can never lose it
Don’t know how it turned up in my kitchen…
It floated calmly away from the wreck of the Titanic
Was the only thing left whole in the ruins of Nagasaki
It was used to dig the grave of a murdered child
The Evil Wooden Spoon
Once it’s found you, you can never lose it
Don’t know how it turned up in my kitchen…
(Instrumental Break)
Born from the wood of a twisted oak
Carved by a man with an empty soul
O pity the kitchen that contains
The Evil Wooden Spoon
Once it’s found you, you can never lose it
Don’t know how it turned up in my kitchen…
It wasn’t long before the influence of the spoon was felt in the kitchen. Food began to go off quicker, cracks appeared in the walls and the whole room felt colder somehow. At first the ladle had no idea what was happening because, of course, the wooden spoon was kept on the countertop in a ceramic jar marked "Spoons" (in naff writing), far away from the cutlery drawer. Then, however, coincidence brought a spatula from the jar to rest in the drawer and the nervous cutlery was made aware of the root of the spreading darkness.
SONG 4: The Ladle Learns of the Spoon's Existence
Something’s happening, the kitchen has stopped feeling warm and safe
The apples in the fruit bowl barely seem to keep for half a day
The damp is creeping in and mould has started down behind the sink
The milk is sour and the water is no longer safe to drink
Cutlery becomes uneasy, knives and spoons begin to lose their shine
The forks know something’s wrong, they can feel it in their tines
The shadow’s growing stronger, a little teaspoon disappears
A saucer cracks, uneasiness quickly turns to fear
(Instrumental Break)
Normally the wooden spoons and spatulas are kept inside a jug
On top the counter, near the microwave, next to all the mugs
But in the general disarray a spatula falls to the floor
Someone picks it up, dusts it off, and puts it in the drawer
At first the spatula is so distraught that it can hardly speak
In the same receptacle as the Wooden Spoon for nearly a whole week!
The Ladle gently calms it with a shiny look of love
And then it’s able to tell them of the evil up above.
Amongst the cutlery the ladle was thought of as a natural leader (after all, it was VERY beautiful), and being both good and humble it knew it would have to take it upon itself to try to save the innocent forks, knives and spoons (not to mention the potato masher, lemon zester and wierd '70s type thing for making ornamental butter curls). It was not just a beautiful object, it had the pure soul of a paladin, and such souls are always called to battle evil.
SONG 5: A Soul
For inanimate objects there is no escape
They cannot move, cannot flee, cannot scream
They lie quiet in despair, knowing their fate
To be pawns in the Wooden Spoon’s evil dream
They know that the spoon is far too strong
Hard metal is no defence against the ancient one
Forged mere years ago, they know it won’t be long
Before their fresh new souls begin to come undone
And a soul is more precious, when that is all you have
A soul is so precious, because that is all you have
For the folk of the kitchen there is a god
With hands that do dishes and a mouth that they feed
They worship it daily, take joy in their jobs
To be used to prepare things is all that they need
And a soul is more precious, when that is all you have
A soul is so precious, because that is all you have
The Ladle decides that it has to be brave
It prays to the god for help in its quest
“To the User of Tools, my friends must be saved,
I will give up my soul just to rescue all the rest”
And a soul is more precious, when that is all you have
A soul is so precious, because that is all you have
Were its prayers really answered? Well, who can say?
Did the god even know of the Ladle’s pure soul?
But one thing’s for sure, the very next day
It was placed next to the Spoon in the washing up bowl.
The ladle told none of the other utensils of its decision, for it knew that, out of fear for its safety, they would try to stop it. Thus it was, that after a night spent in prayer and solitary contemplation, the ladle was placed in the washing up bowl next to the evil spoon.
SONG 6: The Battle
(Instrumental with screams and trippy sound effects)
The battle between the two lasted for what seemed like a decade in utensil-time. The wooden spoon mercilessly taunted the ladle as they fought, calling it a substandard alloy and saying that it had been badly cast. The ladle however kept grimly silent, even in the face of such extreme provocation. It had right on its side, and its will never faltered.
Eventually the ladle knew that there was only one thing which could stop the spoon, and in an act of extreme self-sacrifice it invoked the powers of dimensional warp that all utensils are born with and carried them both to utter annihilation in a nearby alternate reality where the earth is as hot as the sun. On a really warm day. With no clouds.
-=-
(Pause for Reflection and Sobbing)
-=-
Meanwhile back in the drawer the potato masher waits with the rest of the cutlery, having no idea of the ladle’s sacrifice. After a few days the kitchen begins to get back to normal, but there’s still no sign of the ladle. The potato masher, having some idea of the way these things work, begins to fear the worst.
SONG 7: The Potato Masher's Song
It’s been over two days (we’re waiting for you to return)
We miss your special shining (we’re waiting for you to return)
None of us know what’s happening (we’re waiting for you to return)
O we lie immobile (just waiting for you to return)
Chorus I get the feeling you’re not coming back
It’s been too long, you’re not coming back
How long does it take you to be washed and dried?
I get the feeling you’re not coming back
The kitchen seems much brighter (maybe the wooden spoon is gone)
Remember warmth and safety (maybe the wooden spoon has gone)
But why don’t you come back? (If the wooden spoon is gone?)
'Cos things are right again (now the wooden spoon has gone)
Chorus I get the feeling you’re not coming back
It’s been too long, you’re not coming back
How long does it take you to be washed and dried?
I get the feeling you’re not coming back
Middle Eight You went to the place where good and evil meet
Try to deny it where good and evil meet
But I know what happens when good and evil meet
Yes, I know what happens when good and evil meet
Chorus O and is this why you’re not coming back?
It’s been too long, you’re not coming back
How could you do it, leave us all alone?
I get the feeling you’re not coming back
Instrumental
Chorus Was it worth it? You’re not coming back
It’s been too long, you’re not coming back
How could you do it, leave us all alone?
I get the feeling you’re not coming back.
A couple of days later, Margaret Chunning (37) wants to make some soup, and is slightly irritated when she can’t find her wooden spoon or ladle.
SONG 8: I Want to Make Some Soup
Maybe carrots, maybe parsnips
I want to make some soup
Definitely potatoes definitely leeks
I’m going to make some soup
Chop the onions, chop the garlic
I’m going to make some soup
Rinse the lentils in boiling water
I want to make some soup
Put the saucepan on the hotplate
Where’s my wooden spoon?
Need it to saute the onions
Got to have it soon
Oh well, for now I’ll do without it
I’ll use the spatula
Some butter, coriander, cumin
Stir it with the spatula
Great, now the soup is ready
I’ll get the ladle out to pour
Now, where the fuck's it got to?
I’ve searched throught the whole drawer
So, I can’t find the ladle?
I’ll pour it out from a tea-cup
And it’s a bit annoying
Because it means more washing up
It’s irritating how utensils disappear
Some vanishes every time I do the dishes
I reckon it’s a conspiracy
Still, this soup is quite delicious.
The End.
All words and images © Emily Jones 2004-2005.