I went to a quaint bed and breakfast last Christmas, known for culinary delights. On my first morning I ordered the Eggs Benedict. To my astonishment, the dish was served on the hubcap of a 1958 Cadillac.
When I asked the server about the unusual breakfast service, she (a fetching red-haired lass) replied "Our chef is a brilliant man in the kitchen, but quite eccentric. He insists that 'There's no plate like chrome for the hollandaise!'"
'A damned ill-conditioned sort of an ape. It had a can of ale at every pot-house on the road, and is reeling drunk. "
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