Wax and wane

Surely there was only a certain amount of other people’s earwax-infused pus a man could reasonably be expected to quaff, but still, that amount was in the centigallons and he was still at the stage of vomiting violently after each sip from the first beaker (with faded Power Rangers print). He was determined to get through it, though. What doesn’t kill me makes m-HUARRRGGGHHHH!

Croute of all evil

He masticated contemplatively the delicious layers of pastry and salmon before swallowing and making way for a draught of that deep, luxurious Chateauneuf. Just as he placed the crystal goblet down, and thank goodness not a moment later, his lights went out and he splodged down into the salmon en croute, cream sauce squirting rudely out onto the table and his mouth falling open in the most undignified way, half-chewed food spilling out onto the plate as his hosts stood and rushed to see if he was OK, which he wasn’t.