Boston Meatloaf Pancakes Today's lesson in bamboozling your guests involves another play on words. Your guests will hear you say the magic words, "Boston Meatloaf Pancakes". As each syllable rolls off your tongue like marbles off of a 2000 pound woman wearing a tube top, your famished victim-er-guests will be processing, nay, devouring each word. Lets start off with how this clever bit of psychology works:
Boston: Not only does this word automatically make everything fancier simply by association, but if they liked the band Boston, they will no doubt begin remembering happier, innocent days when they were doing cocaine in their parents' basements while listening to "More Than A Feeling". But beware - the song title may remind them that their paranoia of being poisoned by one of your delicious dishes is "More Than A Feeling". Not that it's YOUR fault, I mean, it isn't the cook's responsibility to check and see if everyone has strong stomachs and radiation badges.
Meatloaf: Once again, there is subtle psychology at work here. Not only does meatloaf give the guest an idea that they will be eating something meaty and delicious, they may also remember Meatloaf (the singer). Nothing whets the appetite like memories of a chunky singer belting out some of your all-time favorites. Additionally, breaking up some of Meatloaf's LPs into the food allows you to stay honest with your guests while showing them how shrewd of a chef you can be.
Finally... Pancakes: Your guests, already blown away by the first two words, will be astonished to see them ended with the word 'Pancakes'. Seriously - who doesn't like pancakes? Add all of the words together and you'll have a dish that truly sounds, as Atariman would put it, AWESOME. We all know that pancakes are just flattened-out deliciousness, so we should treat our guests to stack upon stack of wonderful treats. Even if we have to force every bite into their joyfully screaming mouths!
Onward to the recipe!
--Step One-- First you must start with the "Boston" portion of the recipe. I've found that the Little Debbie Boston Cream Rolls will work just fine for this. The only problem is that if you're like me, you won't have any on hand and are on a limited budget that can't support that little tart, Debbie. (That whore) I did happen to find some styrofoam balls and some gasoline, though. Mix them together and you'll wind up with a wonderfully goopy, delectable, and slightly smelly syrup. Everyone knows you need delicious syrup for pancakes - and syrup is never turned down by guests! This will help make up for the fact that there are no Little Debbie cakes in the recipe. Place the syrup inside a speaker that is playing Boston music for 1 hour.
--Step Two-- The meatloaf portion is going to be tricky. The last few precious chunks of meat were used the other week to make a lovely, meaty breakfast cereal for Redoxian and all of my Meatloaf LPs were used by Atariman for his record cannon. Rummage through your neighbor's trash until you have procured some heels from a loaf of bread. Eat the heels and get ready for the fight of your life as you beat up a hobo for his sandwich - you'll need all of the energy you can get from those pieces of moldy bread! Once you have won the fight, depending upon how well you "won" you may be able to make the choice to either put the sandwich or, if the sandwich got too much battle damage, the remains of the hobo into an overturned lawnmower. Catch the food product in a newspaper (preferably the Sunday edition so you'll have comics to read) and put it into an old hubcap.
--Step Three-- Mix the "meat" in the grime-er-"spices" in the hubcap. Your guests will applaud you for your quick thinking and incredibly strong forearms. Now it's time to make it into the shape of a pancake. Little does the average person know that centrifuges can be found nearly anywhere! Why spend all of that time pouring the sludge out of the hubcap and pounding it into a flat shape with a sledgehammer in the middle of the driveway when you can simply flatten it out with clever physics? Dump the contents into one of your neighbor's tires and put it back on their car. Here's the hardest part of the recipe: follow your neighbor around until they inevitably have a blowout. This will happen within 24 hours as the juices from the dish penetrate the rubber during the slow-cooking process. There should be enough heat on the road to heat the dish to a blistering 110 degrees Farenheit - more than enough heat to kill off any germs that may have gotten into the food due to sloppy preparation and/or not washing one's hands after handling a dead badger.
--Step Four-- By now your neighbor has removed the flat tire and left the rubber by the side of the road (after all, everything is biodegradable) and you will be able to finally remove your disguise as they speed into the distance. (Disguise only required if the neighbor has a restraining order against you.) The tire makes a lovely serving dish (for free!) and can be placed directly on the table after liberally applying the syrup to the gigantic meatloaf pancake. You may have a few left over hobo/sandwich chunks. Stick toothpicks in these chunks for an appetizer that will make your guests shriek in excitement as they clutch their chests in happiness.
--Step Five-- Now sit back and enjoy! Your guests will tear into the dish like a pack of wolves. Especially if your guests are a pack of dogs. Or wolves. Or people Redoxian has had locked away in the basement for a few days without food.
Serving size: Enough to fill a spare tire
Recommended Serving Tool: A fairly clean oil-filter wrench or maybe a nice toilet brush.