Yummy yummy yummy, I've got a hostile
life-form in my tummy.
You know, being the international dashing adventurer that I
am, I occasionally pick up the odd bit of advice from passing
wise men, women and, in one memorable case, dogs. I've also been
forced to eat some things that you probably wouldn't even deign
to look at without turning the corners of your mouth downwards
and going 'BLEURRGH' in a mock vomit.
The following recipe I picked up from a passing wise man in
Roswell, New Mexico. They have this weird kind of vermin there
that breed like bacteria and have been eviscerating cows left and
right, so the locals hire a special man to catch them, who sells
them as food for a handsome profit.
The recipe has a couple of mutations which I added after
trying it out a few times in the rough plains of New Mexico.
BARBECUED FACE HUGGER
(A popular local delicacy of Roswell, New Mexico)
YOU WILL NEED:
One face hugger
One roasting pan or large flat rock
One large barrel of industrial-grade antacid
Welding gloves and mask
250g butter or margarine
One chopped onion
One chopped tomato
One whole lemon
Knife, fork and spoon
Baseball bat (Preferably wooden)
Several nine-inch nails
Serves 4, or one extremely hungry young globe-trotter.
Preparation time - Approx. 15 hours
1. Subdue your face hugger with the baseball bat. As well as
making the creature less inclined to tear your face off, this
also tenderizes the meat. Always keep the baseball bat on hand in
case it wakes up during the process.
2. Soak all utensils and protective gear in antacid, but make
sure there is plenty left over. Put on the gloves and mask.
3. Repent sins.
4. Using your fork make a hole in each of the legs just above
the knuckle, then in the main shell over the face hugger's back.
Slice off the tail and cauterize the wound with the blowtorch.
DON'T TOUCH ANY SECRETIONS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.
5. Leave the face hugger to marinate in the antacid for
thirteen hours. Pass the time by making faces at it.
6. Hang the face hugger on a clothes line or similar for
another hour to dry off the excess antacid. Preheat the oven to
gas mark 8, or suspend your large flat rock about eight inches
over your campfire.
7. Place your face hugger upside-down on the rock/roasting pan
and nail it on by the tail stump and at least four of the limbs.
I find that it generally comes back to life at this stage so give
it another couple of solid whacks with the baseball bat.
8. Remove everything from the exposed soft fleshy bits that
are still moving. Whatever you do, don't forget to remove the
little green blobby thing between the fourth vertebrae and the
9. Loosen everything that remains with a fork and spoon.
10. Make an incision along both the big brown wobbly things.
Scoop out all the sludge within and replace it with a mixture of
the sage, onion, breadcrumbs, tomato and butter/margarine.
11. Cook the face hugger for about an hour, or until the
feeding tube stops producing the lumpy brown stuff. I wasn't
kidding about the little green blobby thing, by the way. If you
haven't removed it you'll die at this point. At best.
12. Clean off the lumpy brown stuff as best you can. It won't
harm you but it's not that appealing. Garnish with slices of
13. Yummy! Eat with a spoon and fingers! You can eat
everything except the hard bony bits of the legs and the shell,
which works as a very suitable bowl.
Eat several face huggers and you could give the shells to your
children for them to paint and make into masks! If they do, it is
vitally important that you have cleaned off all the lumpy brown
stuff. Please don't ignore this advice or you'll die. At best.
Face hugger makes a delicious alternative to the usual boring
old burgers and sausages at barbecues. Also, why not try them
instead of turkey at Christmas? After all, it ensures that
everyone gets a leg. For a yuletide face hugger, use a
supermarket brand of pork stuffing, and baste the creature in a
mixture of the lumpy brown stuff and chicken stock. If you take
this option the face hugger will make its own gravy. But don't
eat it with cranberry sauce or you'll die. At best.
This little slice o'heaven brought to you by Ben