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THE SECRET OF THE SAUCE, Deconstruction #47. When ol' Gad McIlhenney
started making sauces in th' Asparagus Valley, he had a dream. A dream
of fishes, hot sauce, and German motorcars with very large tyres. Ol'
Gad's psychiatrist said that
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he had a poultry fixation, and that he was loseling his girlish
figure. "Fix this, you smarmy neo-Raphaelite," shouted Gad, as he
drove his fist through the quack's skull. The shrink's brain-juices
proved to be the necessary ingredient for the perfect sauce. So
Gadasco
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brand Improv Sauce is armed with the fires of eternal damnation for Ol'
Gad's sins And you jest can't get any hotter than that. But ol' Gad
McIlhenney never learned what loseling is. Tough break for him.
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