A Few Crude Men
Hornblower, Cotard and Bush have decided to take it upon themselves
to cook dinner, after the Hotspur's Steward's cooking proves to be a
Cotard (Hysterical at discovering dirty pots and pans in the
cupboard): Do you seriously expect me to cook using these filthy pots
and pans! The Ad-mir-al, required you to wash all utensils before
Hornblower (Perplexed but unnerved): Stick `em in the dishwasher
Cotard: It is not working.
Hornblower: Very well, Mr Bush, pick up that mildewed scourer
Bush: But Sir
Hornblower: Don't disobey me, damn you!
(1/2 hour later)
Hornblower: Bush, make sure Major Cotard bastes the chicken
thoroughly before grilling it.
Bush (slightly irritated): He IS.
Hornblower: Mr Bush, lay aft here. DON'T use that tone of voice
replying to an order.
Bush: Show me more respect with your orders, Sir, and I won't.
Hornblower (reddening with anger): Are you suggesting Mutiny, man?!
Bus: No Sir, we all serve the king.
(Another 1/2 hour later)
Bush (Interrupts Cotard's food preparation): Major...what's this?
Cotard: Pepper, Mayonnaise, Djon Mustard...and some lovely
(Bush is speechless).
Cotard: May I continue?
Bush (to Hornblower): But Sir, you know I can't eat
Hornblower: Turnips, William? I know, I know. You, Major Cotard,
belay those Turnips.
Cotard: How long `ave you been cooking, Monsieur?
Hornblower: Ha'hm this IS my first time, Major Cotard.
Cotard: Exactment. I respect your cooking experience and skills,
in turn I would like you to respect mine.
Hornblower: But Mr Bush here suffers from a serious medical
condition. Turnips give him a rather unpleasant rash.
Cotard: The taste of Turnips will only be brief, I assure you,
Bush (sarcastic): Brief as Frenchman's loyalty.
(sharp look from both Cotard and Hornblower).
Hornblower (relenting): As you wish, Major.
Bush (firing up): Leave the Turnips out, you...froggy gentleman,
I'll cook you.
(Bush threatens to sabotage meal by dangling fish oil above
where the chicken is cooking).
Hornblower and Cotard: Nooooooo!
(Bush pours entire bottle into pot before anyone can stop him).
Cotard (hysterical): If this is a joke it is in poor taste!!
wouldn't understand, Booosh, of taking pride in cooking,
you...you...mutton-headed mad cow!
(Cotard lunges at Bush with a sharp kitchen knife. Hornblower
half a glass of wine onto Cotard's face. Cotard rounds angrily at
Hornblower and furiously smears whipped cream into his hair and face).
Cotard: I never miss, Captain!
(Bush intervenes to defend Hornblower and a massive food fight
erupts. Raw eggs and hot potatoes fly around the galley. Hornblower
lunges to catch each item before it hits the deck. Before long, the
three of them are on the ground, furiously squirming to wrench the
can of whipped cream free from Cotard's grasp. They only stop when
they see a long, white, stockingged leg planted before them. They
look up awkwardly into the shocked face of Admiral Pellew).
(Later, in Pellew's cabin).
Pellew (rousing): YOU HAD NO BUSINESS GETTING INTO A FOOD FIGHT
MAJOR COTARD! HE MIGHT HAVE BLOWN YOU OUT OF THE GALLEY!
Pellew (oblivious to Hornblower's interjection): There's foolishness
and foolhardiness on one hand, and Sense and Sensibility on the
Pellew: I mean, playing with your food?! For God sakes man,
man, damn it! It's time you put away such childish things!!
Hornblower: But -
Pellew (slightly softer): But...even a man needs to sometimes
is living in a world of such pure childish imagination.
(Pellew's eyes twinkle and he retrieves a long silver spoon
breast pocket. Shot of delicious pie in the shape of a fort can be
seen in the background).
Pellew (Handing spoon to Hornblower): Sir, will you do me the
of firing the first broadside?
Hornblower (smiling): With pleasure, Sir.