A River Of Red After A Stabbing

Monday evening, Farmer H's supper was a "McRib" type of sandwich. Two, actually. I have some frozen pork patties shaped like a BBQ rib. The kind you get at McDonald's when they bring back the McRib for a "limited time only." I had some long "steak rolls" to make sandwiches with. All the taste of McDonald's, without the intestinal upset!

Anyhoo... I've included pictures of when I made my own fake rib, which I ate with some mashed potatoes. Kind of like a BBQ "rib" TV dinner, but without the corn, heh, heh. My picture will show you what the patty looked like, so you can understand the actions of Farmer H. More likely, you will understand what I'm talking about, but nobody will ever understand the actions of Farmer H!

I put the pressed-meat patties into the oven on a foil-covered pan, and added BBQ sauce to the top. It cooks up nicely in 14 minutes. Smells delicious. So Farmer H had two of these patties on the pan when he came to make his own sandwiches. I was slicing a Vidalia onion for him, and he had decided on a dill pickle spear on the side, rather than the flat sandwich pickles, because the sandwiches slide apart with both.

The roll looked like this:

I had everything set out, while I was last-minute slicing that onion. You know how they get hot if you let them sit, exposed to the air. They make sulfuric acid, I think! Anyhoo... all Farmer H needed to do was put his patties on his rolls. Easy peasy.

I glanced at what he was doing, and was horrified!

"You can't get it that way! You need to--"

Before I could finish, Farmer H had stabbed a rib patty in the middle with a fork, and was lifting it to his plated bun. Of course the rib patty bent at both ends, and all the BBQ sauce slopped off. At least it went onto the foiled pan. THEN Farmer H treated the second rib patty the same way, with the same result.

"Now all your sauce is gone. All you needed to do was slide a spatula under those patties, and set them on your bun. Or lay the bottom bun on top, put your fork under it, and flip it over."

"It's fine, HM. I'll get my sauce." Said Farmer H as he tried to scoop up the hot BBQ sauce with his fork, and put it on top of the rib patty.

Farmer H lives in a world without logic. A sloppy world.