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Last Sunday night, local soup lover and life-long dyslexic Jim Jameson was saddened to find the brothel he had just entered utterly devoid of broth.
“I’m like four, five bread bowls deep at this point, so I’m pretty far gone, but I remember seeing a sign that said Hot Ladles Ready For Action, and that’s an offer I’ll never refuse,” recounted the cream of mushroom connoisseur, breaking out a jug of chicken stock after misreading a stop sign. “Naturally, I came prepared, so I whip out my Swiss Army spoon and get ready to chow down. Next thing I know, I’m laying on a chinchilla-skin chaise longue, there’s naked women all around me, and I just keep thinking, ‘Where’s the goddamn minestrone?’”
“Yeah, I remember seeing that guy—he came in around nine and wouldn’t stop asking about our daily specials,” explained Madam Cynthia Bouvier, the bordello’s owner, supervisor, forewoman, and DJ. “I tried to offer him our two-for-one conjoined twins deal, but then I realized he was talking about soup! Finally, he asked me for a French onion, so I sent him a European broad with a complex and layered psyche, which seemed to tide him over for a while.”
At press time, Jameson was seen at the strip club asking where all the bad bisques were at.
