The case of the missing snails

NOTE: 

YESTERDAY MEVELY ASKED ME TO WRITE A STORY ABOUT THE ESCAPED SNAILS.

"Allo ... je suis Police Inspector Ivan My-Grain. I ave come ere to investigate ze disappearance of your entire stock of ze escargots ... zis wiz me is ze policeman Rat ... Ratatouille."

"Rat ... Ratatuoille?"

"No ..." said the Inspector, "just Ratatouille. I ave ze stammer ... who are you?"

"I am ze owner of ze snail farm, and ziz is my wife Madame Leggert!"

"What can you tell us about ze vanishing of ze snails?" asked Ratatouille.

"We got ze idea to farm snails for ze restaurants five years ago," explained Madame Leggert, "my husband and I we were in Paris, e was drunk az always, and e fell in ze river. E was in Seine!"

"And zat is when we got ze idea," interrupted her husband, "we came ere in zis lovely countryside and we started an open air ze free range snail farm. Ze snails are let free to walk in ze grass in ze morning and we get zem in at night. When zey are big and plump we sell zem to the Paris restaurants! C'est délicieux n'est ce pas?"

"Yes, I'm sure zey are delicious," said Inspector My-Grain, "but ow did zey escape?"

"Zey opened ze barn door and zey run away," cried Madame Leggert, "my poor babies ... I miss zem so. Zey were veree precious to me".

"But you intended to eet zem," said Ratatouille, "or sell zem to be eaten. How could zey be precious to you?"

"We get plenty of ze money for zem," she explained, "we sell zem for ten francs ze dozen ..."

"Un moment s'il vous plaît," said ze inspector, ... sorry ... the inspector, "I ave received a report zat a lot of ze snails ave eaten a whole field of lettuces about ten kilometres from ere. Are zese your snails do you think?"

"Will we be charged for ze damaged lettuces?" asked Madame Leggert.

"Probably ... yes," replied My-Grain.

"Zen zey are absolument not ours," she replied, "definitely not zem!"

"Ow can you be so sure?" asked Ratatouille.

"Our snails zey are good with ze garlique sauce not with ze lettuce," she replied crossing her fingers behind her back.

"Zat is true, Inspector," said Ratatouille, "zey are better with ze garlique sauce and ze glass of ze wine!"

Inspector My-Grain looked at his smart phone and declared, "I ave anozer report zat a lot of ze snails ave entered Paris. Zey are evry where. Montmartre, Ze Louvre, Ze Tour Eiffel, zey are running a mocking evry where. Zey are climbing up peuples' legs as far az iz possible. Some ave reached possible. We can not ave ze snails in peuples' private business. Zis iz in Seine!"

"We ave all ready used zis joke Inspector," said Ratatouille.

The inspector ignored Ratatouille and asked the farming couple, "Ave you any idea ow ze snails are moving so fast? Ave you been feeding zem laxative to give zem ze running?"

"Of course not ..." said Madame Leggert, "zey probably took a taxi to Paris!"

"Zis is true," continued her husband, "ze bus from ere eet is veree slow and only come every day or so. Eet iz so not reliable. Ze snails zey probably took ze taxi to Paris!"

"Ring all ze taxi firms," My-Grain said to Ratatouille, "ask zem if zey have ad anee snail customers going to Paris. Not anee where else. Just Paris!"

"Oui mon Capitaine," replied the policeman as he tapped his cell phone.

"And now ... I want to do ze search of ze farm," said My-Grain, "in ze case zere is a slow snail we can interrogate eet!" 

Whilst they were searching the living room the TV was switched on and the Newsreader said: "We understand zat a spokes man for ze snails, Monsieur Slimee Guy, pronounced Gheeee, and not like ze English Gayeee, eet iz Monsieur Slimee Gheeee. Any ways, e as said zat ze snails want to stop ze peuples from ze eeting zem!"

"Oh zut alors ..." cried Madame Leggert slapping her face with her hands, "if ze peuples zey stop eeting ze snails we weel be ruined. No more monee for selling ze snails". 

"You could always farm ze grenouilles ... ze frogs," suggested My-Grain.  

"But ... ow do wee stop zem from running ze away?" asked her husband.

"You just cut zeir legs ..." said Inspector My-Grain.

And that's how a new delicacy was created.

CUE MUSIC AND FILM CREDITS

Police Inspector Ivan My-Grain --- Ivan Aspirin

Policeman Ratatouille --- Rat Au Vin

Madame Leggert --- Plaster of Paris

Her Husband --- Under Ze Thumb

Snails supplied by Speedy Gonzales

No snails or any other animals have been harmed in the making of this story.

Based on an idea by Mevely.

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Strange Encounter of the Restaurant Kind

A most odd thing happened to me at the restaurant the other day. I was at a business meeting and I took the client I was with, Veronique Tombal, to a French restaurant.

She had frogs' legs; but I'll admit the rest of her body was superb.

Anyway, we sat down at table and after ordering our meals I asked for a bottle of Beaujolais. The waiter brought the bottle and, as is customary, he poured a few drops in a glass to be tasted first. Then, to my surprise, he picked up the glass and tasted it himself. I've never ever seen such a thing before. Usually, it is the customer who tastes the wine, and usually says something complementary about it as it is served to all at table.

But this time, the waiter, or sommelier as he is known, tasted the wine himself. Stranger still, he then declared, "Oh non monsieur ... ziz wine, eet haz been corked. Eet ees no good! I will gett anozer bottle!"

He then went away and returned with another bottle, which he opened there and then and pouring a drop or two in a glass he tasted it again.

"Zis one is better!" he said, as he served me and my business client.

Then, even more stranger, he poured wine in the glass he had already used for himself and sat with us at table.

I did not know what to say or do. I did not want to seem ungracious and tell him to go away, and before I had time to speak he said, "Eet eez very important to make sure ze wine eet has not been corked. Zis ees when ze bottle haz been badly opened and ze wine has touched ze cork and ze atmosphere at ze same time. Ze wine eez zen ruined."

"I see," I said, not having understood a word. Veronique smiled and said nothing.

"Wine, ees a very important part of ze meal," he continued, "especially in la belle France!"

Veronique smiled and asked, "Avez-vous toujours été un sommelier?" Meaning, have you always been a wine waiter?

"Oh non, madame ..." he declared, "before zat I was a snail farmer. I used to farm snails for ze best restaurants in Paris. Eet was a slow job sometimes aving to round zem up for ze night! I ad a sheep dog which walked slowly around ze field and he pushed ze snails with hiz nose in ze direction of ze barn where we kept ze snails for ze night! 

"Wee started at about 2 in ze afternoon and got all ze snails in ze barn by 6 in ze evening. 

"Ze next morning wee let zem out again to go in ze field for a promenade and to eat ze fresh grass."

"That's not how you farm snails," I said quietly.

"Oh monsieur, ours were ze free range snails. Not ze snails in cages. Wee let zem out in ze morning to walk freely in ze meadows and to tip ze toe through ze too lips!"

Veronique and I smiled and said nothing.

"One day we ad ze break-out!" he continued as he ordered another bottle of Beaujolais from the waiter serving our meals.

"You mean a break-in!" I corrected.

"Non monsieur," he replied, "a break out. During ze night some snails zey climbed up ze barn door and opened ze latch which held ze door closed. All ze snails zey escaped.

"In ze morning wee started a search for zem. Wee searched all around ze farm for a ten metres radius and wee did not find zem. Not even one. Zey ad all escaped. So wee brought in ze police elicopters to fly up and search wider. Wee widened ze search by anozer alf metre all around but wee found nothing. Zee snails ad travelled more than ten and a alf metres in one day!"

"Why did you not search further and for longer?" I asked.

"Oh monsieur, "he replied, "it waz ze time for the petit déjeuner ... ze breaky fast ... you know ... du pain, du vin et du fromage!"


Veronique and I looked at each other and smiled.

"And now monsieur et madame I ave to go and serve anozer table. Merci beaucoup for allowing me to taste your wine.

"May I try one of your escargots, pleeze?" he said as he picked a snail from my plate and left mumbling to himself, "eet needs more of ze garlique!!!"