How To: Make Spam Soup with Art Ester
Are you overwhelmed by the amount of Spam you bought? As in physically overwhelmed, as in, you cannot move inside your domicile because you are crushed by the weight of thousands and thousands of spam cans? Well fear not, intrepid tinned-meat lover, because we are about to dive into some fun, flavorful ways to reduce the weight of all of that canned goodness on your chest.
You’ll need:
Spam
An aunt
An ancient ghost
Let’s get going!
First, you’ll want to call your weirdest aunt. The one who lives in the woods. I guarantee you she knows how to make spam soup.
She might berate you for not calling her for 8 years.
Once the verbal lashing is over, she’ll happily turn over her recipe.
Oh wow. There’s a lot of witch stuff in this.
The recipe will demand a porcupine and a Rosie O’Donnell.
The porcupine is just there to watch; Rosie will have to perform the incantation.
The Rosie O’Donnell part is actually pretty easy; she has a house only a few doors down from your aunt, and they belong to the same Witch Club.
Rosie will refuse at first, as your aunt and her had a spat over whose robes were the witchiest at the last summoning. Fortunately, Rosie can be tempted into agreeing by promising her an extra two helpings of Soup.
Ask your aunt and Rosie to spread the word to the Witch Club to meet in the middle of the woods at the next harvest moon.
Be sure Rosie brings her nice cauldron, not the cheap one used for weekday spells. Conjuring spam soup requires ancient, evil magic, and will easily split a cheap cauldron.
Gather the witches round, and place several dozen tins of Spam in the cauldron.
Ensure the porcupine is watching. You can entice him with a nut or sliver of spam.
Your aunt should use her Evil spellbook, turning to the ‘blood magic’ section.
Rosie, AND ONLY ROSIE, can recite the incantation. Her booming voice will reach the spirits necessary to create a thick, rich Spam soup.
The spell, when spoken, will echo through the trees, and all will become silent for a moment.
A mighty, frozen wind will rip through the crowd as a giant, hideous ghost appears above the soup. It will bear a staff in one hand, the other hand a gnarled claw, poking through tattered robes, twirling out unknown magic with slight movements of its evil fingers.
It will speak out, impossibly loud and with a gnashing, horrible voice: “BEWARE, all gathered here. Your soup breaks all known laws of nature. You may enjoy it now, but its creation will rip through the fabric of time. You may never rest easy again. ALSO, I added a bit of paprika. I think you’ll find it adds that special something.”
The ghost will disappear through a zipper in space-time, but not before several demons sneak through the gash, wielding bowls.
The forest will shudder, and all will become calm again.
The soup really does smell fantastic, its pink, oozy goodness wafting through the eager crowd.
Remind the soup-seeking demons that they have to wait in line like everyone else.