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Henry Morton · 02-06-2007, 23:25

More Pie History

Halfway during WWII in occupied France, a British NCO emerged from undercover because he'd smelt the gorgeous pies being
cooked at the local bistro.
And , as the smell wafted into his upturned nostrils , he thought "Aah! . . . " and you can fill in the rest for yourself.

Anyway, he asked la maitresse d'hotel if he could have one of her most enticingly aromatic pies, and possibly a glass of beer to accompany it.

She was happy to oblige, but warned him that the Bosche were in the area and that they emphatically were not selling vindscreen vipers.

Thus, unfortunately, while he tucked into his pie and quaffed his ale, he was interrupted by two Nazi goons in full kit ; they pointed their machine-guns at him and pulled the triggers.

Too late for them, however, as he'd already dropped from his bar-stool, rolled to his right and fired two deadly rounds . . . one at each.

As the astonished landlady watched, he strolled over to the still-twitching bodies and unsheathed his 10" Bowie knife.

She was certain, having seen local newsreels, that he would next remove their highly-prized regalia.

But no.

Instead, he sliced off the left ear of one and the right ear of the other.

Returning to his dining place he then stuffed these fresh and bloody lumps of enemy cartilage into his still-steaming meal.

"Zut Alors !! ", exclaimed Madame.

"Vous etes SAS, n'est ce pas ?"

"Mais non", replied our hero.

" Pie'n'Ear Corps ."

02-06-2007, 23:25	#34
Henry Morton I am Banned Join Date: Mar 2004 Posts: 623 Liked: 0 times Rep Power: 0	Re: Holland's Pies More Pie History Halfway during WWII in occupied France, a British NCO emerged from undercover because he'd smelt the gorgeous pies being cooked at the local *bistro*. And , as the smell wafted into his upturned nostrils , he thought "Aah! . . . " and you can fill in the rest for yourself. Anyway, he asked la maitresse d'hotel if he could have one of her most enticingly aromatic pies, and possibly a glass of beer to accompany it. She was happy to oblige, but warned him that the Bosche were in the area and that they emphatically were not selling vindscreen vipers. Thus, unfortunately, while he tucked into his pie and quaffed his ale, he was interrupted by two Nazi goons in full kit ; they pointed their machine-guns at him and pulled the triggers. Too late for them, however, as he'd already dropped from his bar-stool, rolled to his right and fired two deadly rounds . . . one at each. As the astonished landlady watched, he strolled over to the still-twitching bodies and unsheathed his 10" Bowie knife. She was certain, having seen local newsreels, that he would next remove their highly-prized regalia. But no. Instead, he sliced off the left ear of one and the right ear of the other. Returning to his dining place he then stuffed these fresh and bloody lumps of enemy cartilage into his still-steaming meal. "Zut Alors !! ", exclaimed Madame. "Vous etes SAS, n'est ce pas ?" "Mais non", replied our hero. " Pie'n'Ear Corps ."