Monologue Mania: Monologue Mania Day # 1517 The Fall of the House of Gristle (first pages) by Janet S. Tiger (c) April 12, 2018

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Today is Day # 1517! To look at the other 1516 titles - click here

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Monologue Mania Day # 1517 The Fall of the House of Gristle (first pages) by Janet S. Tiger (c) April 12, 2018
Due to the amazing demand for the actual book mentioned in last night's monologue - okay, one person asked - I am giving a taste with the following. A taste of what? Well....gristle, of course!

The Fall of the House of Gristle

by Janet S. Tiger

tigerteam1@gmail.com

Dedication-

If my daughter had not fell the gristle, I never would've thunk of all this.

Chapter 1

Gristle. Just the word sounds tough.

Chewy. Nothing of value. At least on the surface.

Just like the original Mr. Gristle.

Of course, Mr. Gristle was not his real name.

It was something completely forgettable - like Smith or Jones.

But since he had chosen a most unusual business, over the years, his name would become associated with that very business. First he was…the Gristle Man. And as his fortunes rose like the smells from his bags of gristle, he became…Mr. Gristle..

It began simply enough -the rounding up of gristle from the butchers.

Mr. Gristle was poor. As were most in the town where he lived.

Where was he born? No one seemed to know, least of all, Mr. Gristle.

When asked at first, he would say….I’m from far away, which soon became the town of Faraway.

No one knew where this town was. Which, in time, didn’t matter at all since no one else from Faraway ever came to verify Mr. Gristle’s stories.

The butchers did not like Mr. Gristle at first, but they soon grew to appreciate him, and in time, to love him. Well, maybe not love, but definitely smile when he approached, because they knew their gristle – which they previously had thrown into the back alley, and then dogs and other animals had congregated, making for much more smell and noise – would be carted away at no cost to them.

And at the start, the food Mr. Gristle prepared with his throwaways was disgusting and only fit for the poorest – so the butchers could tell annoying customers – who might be complaining about their meat – to go to Gristle’s, maybe they would prefer a gristle stew!

It was a win-win situation, even for the poor, who could now afford something, vile though it was, for special occasions – and Mr. Gristle, though he smelled like his wares and was very scary to small children – was known to give credit, a godsend to folks with no money.

Who would’ve thunk that gristle would become the foundation of an empire? Certainly not the butchers who first gave the cast-off leftover pieces of fat trimmed from the cows and pigs. Certainly not the people of the town who came to depend on Gristle for emergency food when money was scarce. And certainly not the family of Gristle, who, as the children of the original Mr. Gristle, always carried a faint air of almost spoiled meat that had been cooked with potatoes and onions to render it semi-edible if not slightly digestible.

But, as often happens, what changed everything was the marriage of Mr. Gristle to the town's most eligible bachelorette.......the fair, very lovely and slightly flatulent Priscilla Pudgewind.

And that, my friends, will be the subject of...Chapter 2.

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