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Sunday, 7 July 2013

WELLINGTON, ENG. (WHERE ELSE?) - A local Wellington pub-cum-restaurant admits it specializes in "unusual fare" according to owner Steve Drum. Customers of the establishment suggest the declaration is "an understatement" typical of the stereotypical dry British wit.

"He's selling bull bullock juice for a pound per shot," Sara Wood gushed, between sips from her stein.

She says she has sampled a syringe of bull semen and found it "good to the last drop."

"It's the crème de la crème of the pub's offerings," Fifi Fondue said, "but the dog piss is first rate, too."

"Canine urine," Drum corrected her.

They sells all types of animal (and some say, for the right price, paid under the table) human body fluids. According to the most recent menu, patrons can purchase any of the following items with which to whet their appetites, starting at a pound per swallow:

Black Bear Bile
Beaver Breast Milk
Marsupial Menstrual Blood
Mule Mucus
Seal Saliva
Stag Semen
Ultimate Mastiff Urine
Vicuna Vaginal Secretions

The pampered menagerie of donor animals eat only the best foods, exercise regularly, are medically screened by a veterinarian, and are "physically attractive," according to Drum.

The pub owner guarantees each syringe of stag semen is served hot or cold, according to the diner's preference, with a tall tankard of ale, mead, or beer.

"No doubt about it," Wood declared, seeming slightly tipsy, "the semen is a ballsy drink."

She said she will definitely sample more of the unusual menu items. In fact, she's trying to decide between the Beaver Breast Milk and the Vicuna Vaginal Secretions. The problem is, she said, she's not sure what a vicuna is.

"It's a kind of camel-thing," Fondue told her. Then Fondue suggested that one of them by a syringe of the milk and the other a syringe of the secretions. "Then we can share."

Drum shook his head. "Positively no sharing aloud."

"In that case, give me a syringe of the Mule Mucus," Fifi ordered.

"Make mine the Beaver Breast Milk," Wood said.

"I'm all out of that at present, love," Drum replied. "The footballers were here a few hours ago, and they cleaned me out."

"Okay, in that case, I'll go with the Vicuna Secretions, I guess."

After the ladies had their drinks, Fondue asked Wood whether she had to "use the lavatory."

Giggling, the two women staggered through the crowded establishment, headed for the loo, syringes in hand, where, Drum suspected, they were going to share the cocktails with one another, after all.

He shrugged. "What's a bloke to do? Go in the bloody loo after them?"

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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