Was going to save this but who knows where we'll be by tomorrow
Jack Monroe in: Tomorrow there'll be an orangery
By Jack Monroe aged 34 1/4
Jack Monroe the budget cook was in a pickle: an evil man called Mozza had libelled her and she'd taken him to court. As she caught the wicked flash of his eyes from across the courtroom, it just made her determination grow. "Objection! I've cooked for poor people everywhere," she shouted. "Be quiet, Madam," a bailiff said cruelly.
"Break time," shouted the judge and they all left. In the canteen, she ran into Mozza and his cronies.
"Surprised to see you here Jack," grunted Lozza. "Thought you'd be going home for a bowl of rinsed beans."
With a brave and uncynical laugh, Jack faced up to him. "Gloves off. Lawyer instructed."
"You what?" said Lozza unintelligibly.
"A very expensive game of chicken," gritted Jack, "with someone who has a history of crossing the road. Good luck, boys."
"Say that again," threatened Lozza.
"White trash with tattoos and no training in media law, hasn't got a case!" mocked Mozza.
At that moment there was a flash of silver hair as someone stepped between them. It was the Old Husband.
"As I always say," he remarked, pushing Lozza and Mozza back with a gentle but firm hand, "you can't put an alligator in a bathtub without expecting shins to get kicked. Snap."
As Lozza and Mozza sloped off, looking confused, Jack turned to the Old Husband.
"If only you could reveal your identity to the world," she marvelled.
"I'm sworn to secrecy," he responded. "All I care about is winning this case. With your budget cooking skills and my... experience, there's nothing we can't achieve."
"It's taking so long."
"Be patient, Jack. Tomorrow there'll be an orangery."
END
Jack Monroe in: Tomorrow there'll be an orangery
By Jack Monroe aged 34 1/4
Jack Monroe the budget cook was in a pickle: an evil man called Mozza had libelled her and she'd taken him to court. As she caught the wicked flash of his eyes from across the courtroom, it just made her determination grow. "Objection! I've cooked for poor people everywhere," she shouted. "Be quiet, Madam," a bailiff said cruelly.
"Break time," shouted the judge and they all left. In the canteen, she ran into Mozza and his cronies.
"Surprised to see you here Jack," grunted Lozza. "Thought you'd be going home for a bowl of rinsed beans."
With a brave and uncynical laugh, Jack faced up to him. "Gloves off. Lawyer instructed."
"You what?" said Lozza unintelligibly.
"A very expensive game of chicken," gritted Jack, "with someone who has a history of crossing the road. Good luck, boys."
"Say that again," threatened Lozza.
"White trash with tattoos and no training in media law, hasn't got a case!" mocked Mozza.
At that moment there was a flash of silver hair as someone stepped between them. It was the Old Husband.
"As I always say," he remarked, pushing Lozza and Mozza back with a gentle but firm hand, "you can't put an alligator in a bathtub without expecting shins to get kicked. Snap."
As Lozza and Mozza sloped off, looking confused, Jack turned to the Old Husband.
"If only you could reveal your identity to the world," she marvelled.
"I'm sworn to secrecy," he responded. "All I care about is winning this case. With your budget cooking skills and my... experience, there's nothing we can't achieve."
"It's taking so long."
"Be patient, Jack. Tomorrow there'll be an orangery."
END