Dear Question Person,
Hi. I'm Trael. My big brother, Jarwaun, do the typing for Mr. Squid, on account even though Mr. Squid got a keyboard he can type on in his fish tank, he mostly would rather shout and swing his arms and tentacles 'round than do the typing himself. Also, his keyboard is in the water, kinda sealed up in like a big clear trash bag, but they can't make computer screens that can go in the water like that, on account of the pressure, so his screen gotta be out here with us, and he says that the parrot-lax from the refractions of the air, and the laminations in the thick glass for his tank, and the water in the tank make his optically perfect eyes itchy-twitchy. Also, a lot of times Rob turn that screen around our way, 'cause it's big and much cooler for Warcraft than his little computer screen, and then we don't always remember to turn it around because it's late when he and Jarwaun is done getting beat by Chinese kids, or whatever.
But, so, my brother Jarwaun does a lot of the typing, but I'm typing today, because Rob couldn't come in and Jarwaun gotta help Mr. Squid run the paper shredders and incinerator before the Taxman comes, which sounds like a superhero, but is actually just a bunch of men and ladies in suits who also are not going to be happy about me working here, or Jarwaun, or Mr. Squid's daycare without the day-care license, or his dog school. There's also a lot of fire harzards, but since there's only maybe one fire inspector around, that's not such a big thing, 'cause he probably mostly spends his time at bars and fish-fry places.
So I get to write this column now, and I also got to pick the question, and I picked yours, even though it's hard to answer, because most of the other questions were lots worse to answer, 'cause they was all about love and people having rashes on their Personal Areas, and also knitting. Lotta lot knitting questions. Just so you know, I ain't never seen Mr. Squid knit a thing, and I've spent lots of time here. Lots.
But your question is a hard question too, on how to prepare a giant squid for cooking, because he don't really cook much. There's reasons for this. One, he says he likes the thrill of the hunt. I don't know how thrilling that is, because the dogs are real crazy scared when they got shooted into Mr, Squid's tank, and then the water pressure makes their eyes bulge and sometimes they lungs come out they mouths, but I guess they kick and twist a lot, like fish dumped out on a dock—Rob says that's ironic, 'cause it's the opposite of fish on a dock, but I think it's symmetrical, like folding a paper in half to cut into hearts or snowflakes or three-leaf-clovers: It's like the two halves of the thing are just the same, even though their opposite.
So, that's one, is that Mr. Squid likes for the dogs to kick and twist and for the blood to spurt. Mr. Squid likes to tear. Mr. Squid likes a long meal, he says.
And two is that to cook you gotta either run the stove, or the microwave, or the toaster oven. Microwaves and toaster ovens are electric, and wouldn't work in Mr. Squid's fish tank—kinda because they are like the computer screen: The pressure pops 'em. One time when Mr. Squid was off in his steel suit walking around doing things out in the city me and Jarwaun and Rob tried launching a microwave into the tank—we launched a whole buncha things, on account Rob was drinking cheap beer and had bought Jarwaun a super-size Starbucks drink and the Chinese man with the food was super late—and it popped like a lightbulb. Poppped like a lightbulb when you drop it on the floor, not like the lightbulbs we shot into the tank; they smooshed real quick, like stepping on a reeses pieces that's been in your pocket for the whole movie and you only find afterword when you's waiting in the long-long line to go pee.
And you can't run a stove in the tank, because that needs fire, and the tank is full of water. We didn't try putting fire in the tank, but it's pretty obvious it won't work.
The third thing is that Mr. Squid doesn't cook because he says it messes up all the best proteins, and is just a cheap way of getting food rotten. If you want good nutrients and proteins, you either gotta eat it "still fighting to wrest a final momentary glimpse of life's variance," or let it kinda go rotten. That gives the umami, which is also why ketchup is good on everything, 'cause it's kinda rotten. That's what Mr. Squid says, anyway.
But for my birthday last fall we had a barbecue at Shady Pines where me and Jarwaun and Pops live, and where we met Mr. Squid back in the day. Pops was on a double shift, second and third, so he wasn't there for the BBQ, but Rob came and Mr. Squid did too, and he cooked us a whole mess of lil pigs, and they were gooooooood! and this is how he prepared:
Jarwaun's Little Brother
and Mr. Squid's Friend
Booker T. Washington Academy
Love the Giant Squid? Buy his first book.
Share on Facebook
Tweet about this Piece
Poor Mojo's Tip Jar: