MIXED NUTS
by Geoff Nelder

In these days, where litigations often follow disastrous meals in restaurants, it makes a change to see honesty, however misplaced...

"What do you mean you've found a nut in your pizza? We told them you had a nut allergy. Waiter!"

"No mum, not that sort of nut. See?"

"But it's metal. That's worse than finding a peanut."

"I've not heard of people having anaphylactic shocks from metal nuts," said Father. "You could break some teeth though. Waiter!"

"It's all right," sighed Son. "I noticed it before it went in my mouth. There aren't any more."

"No, son," said Mum, "leave the rest. It could be contaminated and there could be small pieces looking like, I don't know, onions."

"Yeah right." He denied with a double-positive. "Hey look, this green pepper is really a six-inch nail. Waiter!"

"Stop fooling, Son," said Dad. "It's bad enough to have a real foreign body in your food."

"Foreign? It was probably made here in Sheffield," said Son, prodding the nut with his left forefinger. "On the other hand." He twirled a gleaming fork in his right hand. "This green pepper came from Italy. That's a real foreign body."

"Is everything all right?" said a beaming waiter.

"No it isn't, and wipe that smile off your face," said Mother.

"Mum, stop it."

"Do you need drinks top-ups? More coffee?"

"We need the manager straight away," said Father.

"I'm sure I can be of help."

"We were told the Emporium Cafe was the most prestigious in Yorkshire yet my little boy's food is contaminated, and so you will get the manager before I get Environmental Health.."

"Certainly Madam."

"Mum, stop it," whimpered Son.

"Shut up, son, and leave that nut alone."

A shadow fell over their table as the immaculately suited manager loomed.

"I believe you have a problem with the food?"

Mother said, "You're the one with the problem, Mister. You must have some loose machinery in your kitchen." She brandished the pasta dripping ironmongery under his nose.

"That wasn't found in your food was it?" he said, nose twitching as he took it between finger and thumb.

"It might not be listed in the ingredients but it was there to be choked on."

"Mum, I didn't choke."

"Please accept my sincere apologies," said the Manager, "the meal will be replaced and there'll be no charge for your party's meals."

"Cool," said Son, "does that include ice-cream for afters?"

"Don't push it, Son," said Father.

"Yes, anything," said the Manager, relieved to keep away the Health Authorities.

The family watched him walk to the till to enlighten the cashier.

Finding the remainder of their meal tasting so much better being complimentary, the family re-assembled outside.

"We'll have to do that more often," joked Father.

Glaring, Mother said: "I knew you'd say that. Let's get to the car. Watch out Son!"

A metallic clatter took three pairs of eyes to the pavement where a model jeep continued dismantling, a wheel rolling off the curb.

"I don't want to think what I'm thinking," wailed Mother.

"What? What? The nut in the pizza didn't come from my car!"

It took microseconds for Mother's sense of justice to grab Son, with jeep, and at the cashier's station, demanded to pay in full for their meal.

"But Mum."

"I'll deal with you at home."

The incongruously clean suit held out stop hands.

"Please, Madam, please accept your meal on us. It is very gracious of you to accept the blame but the transaction has already been computed and beyond easy reach."

"Nonsense, here's the money," she said, sending a cascade of coins and fluttering notes on the counter and dragging Son outside again.

"Don't embarrass me like that again," she shouted.

"But Mum."

The Emporium Cafe staff, smug smiles from behind smoked glass, watched the trio trek to their vehicle.

From a corner table behind them came a distress call.

"Waiter! There's a metal bolt in my Tortellini."

The End