That is the biggest pig pile I've ever seen.

Today is August 24th 2009. Somewhere out there in the ether a woman's tear ducts dry from exhaustion, helplessly looking on as her child's stomach bloats with the gasses of starvation, unable to process food any longer because of a digestive malformation. Somewhere out there a boy's dog is hit by an automobile. The boy will never outgrow the pain and will forever be encumbered by a schism, which will render him awkward and ungainly in social situations. He will never form a lasting relationship with another human being and will eventually kill himself on the anniversary of this very day. And here in Boston it's Wing Night. MMM MMM Wing Night!!! (: MMM MMMMMMMMMM! Yummy.
Our ongoing struggle with the weather was relieved today by a five second rain shower that cooled thing off to a somewhat normal temperature, which was followed by the sun coming out again and Suffolk County erupting into plumes of fire. If we hadn't crawled on our stomachs we would have died from asphyxiation, which is why we were a bit late to wing night tonight. Razzle Dazzle was sent on a recon and rescue mission to Stop & Shop to retrieve Sweet Baby Ray and check into the day old bakery situation. Angus Rocket, Oxford, and myself continued on to forcefully capture a table.Resistance was strong, we didn't get our favorite booth, and my hand was blown off by a sawed off shotgun, but we did manage to wrangle ourselves a seat. A new waiter came to tend to us who goes by the name Wallace Rooker (jokingly referred to as "Rookie"). There was some confusion with ordering because Angus Rocket can only speak in swears but eventually Sir Knight JP came galloping up so gallantly with his back pattery and infinite charm and all was put away nice and neat in no time at all. Afterwards lite conversation was had. Oxford, as it turns out, is a student of Northeastern Academy of Combat and Psychic warfare where she majors in graphic design with strengths in lazer management.
A cool breeze entered the Penguin and it's name was Secret Agent Razzle Dazzle. The doorman asked for his ID. Rzzl Dzzl showed him his fists. The doorman showed Mr. Dazzle his brains and what they look like splattered all over the floor. Because you don't fuck with Razzle Dazzle, okay hombre?
With the last of my fading strength I cauterized my wrist using the excessive buffalo sauce and hard lined the rest of my wings straight in my veins. Oxford put on an impromptu lazer light show; the class IV lasers caused some collateral damage, but in my blood deprived state they lulled me right into comfy slumber.
-Secret Agent Man Power

hello, this is secret agent RAZZY-d. tonight i crawled through the mission hill jungle to arrive at my destination, whereupon i was attacked by a carnivorous plant. after finally escaping its jagged and sweet-smelling maw, i noticed that it had left its venomous pluumshewgunmbee juice on my skin, leaving my purple, and with a "pins-and-needles" sensation. i rushed to the penguin and plowed my way to the table, just barely allowing myself the time to grab my passport. sir knight jp was quick to notice my distress and offered to serve me my drink of the day, the magnanimous "samuel smith's nut brown ale". after pouring a salve of it on my alkaline ridden flesh, i continued to savor it with my tongue. one sip and i was in flavor country; i thought to myself: "this simply has to be one of the most delicious beers i have ever tasted in my entire life". "you can really taste the nut" oxford exclaimed after a sip. according to the label, the water used in processing the ale comes from a well that was dug over 400 years ago, and continues to serve the brewery today in northern england. it seems somewhat unnecessary to even rate it at this point, but for posterity i will have you know that it is an enormous circle with the largest dot possible within its perimeter.

wings were okay. kinda moderate.

the well for making the beer will never dry, which is far more than i can say for the well of bounty known as cakescapades. for the third week straight, we have been unable to recover a satisfying cakescapade. this week we folded and bought 3 pieces of cheesecake, because the only friggin "yesterday's bakery" goods were danishes. DANISHES.
as a result, i give cakescapades a single mark, a "den-mark".
atmosphere was lovely, we couldn't eat our wings in the tower of power like usual, or even the old "Razzly-corner", but even in the mid table we felt right at home because sir knight JP was on the prowl. he just went and pulled out our chairs for gods sake. what a sweetie! sweet knight jp gets an A for atmosphere and a SUPER for superb service.


CONCLUSION:

HUNGER INDEX: critical mass
BEER: large circle, maximum dot.
WINGS: okay
ATMOSPHERE: ASERVICE: super
CAKESCAPADES: denmark