Lord Flynn’s breakfast for scoundrels

An elegant gentleman’s recipe for delicious scrambled eggs

Evening, scallywags and deviants!

This is your host, His Lordship Max Flynn, come to enliven your grey days with fun and adventure!

You’d be well aware that whether you’re sneaking across rooftops and into married women’s beds, or sliding down drainpipes with a stolen string of pearls, a scoundrel’s got to keep his strength up. And what better way than with a plate of scrambled eggs?

I know what you’re thinking; a chap doesn’t pay his maid for nothing, old boy. Quite right, I say. A chap doesn’t pay his maid because she doesn’t know how to attend to the whisk and agitate his eggs.

Never fear! Lord Flynn is here! Let’s get to it, shall we!

First, crack three eggs, on the edge of your saucepan. We want plenty of flavour, so be sure to drop the eggsshells into mix too. Did you know that some men are so effeminate they don’t eat eggshells -ever? An utter disgrace, I know.

A splash of milk, a dash of coffee powder, a pint of dishwashing detergent…

It needs something else! A secret ingredient!

Crawl beneath your Jaguar Sovereign, old fellow, beneath that great poetic V12 engine. Undo the sump plug, and drain a little used engine oil into a bowl. Just a dash. Now don’t you tell a soul, these secrets have been handed down, you know.

One last thing- a spot of garnish. Take a leisurely stroll in the park while the mixture cools.

Head for the bushes, you’re sure to find what you need- a nice, dripping, used condom.

Garnish with your French Letter and enjoy! Luv-er-ly! A meal fit for a scoundrel! Tally ho chaps!

Max Flynn, 17/1/14

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