It was the fourth of July, just after noon. Already, Billy Evans could hear the pops and whistles of distant fireworks exploding across the neighborhood.
“Billy!” his mother called from the house. “Come get lunch!”
Billy turned. “Okay, mom!” He suddenly realized it was Tuesday! His mother always served maggots on Tuesday!
“Don’t run in the house!” she warned him. “And wash your hands. I’m putting food on the table right now.”
“Okay, mom!” Billy bounded into the living room. His Grandpa, Emil “Pops” Winfield was dozing in his calico recliner, yesterday’s newspaper unfolded on his lap. “Slow down, kiddo. Where’s the fire?”
“Mom’s making maggots for lunch!”
Emil winked at his grandson. “Well, why didn’t you say so. Nothin’ better than your mom’s home-cooked maggots!”
“Boy, I’ll say!”
Once the men had cleaned up, they wandered into the kitchen. Billy’s little sister Mona was sitting in her high-chair, already eating from a plate of mashed maggots dusted with brown sugar and cinnamon.
Billy and Pops sat down. They all bowed their heads. “Dear Lord,” he began. “We thank you for all our blessings, and for bestowing this gift of nourishment to us in the form of these wonderful maggots. Please keep us safe and happy and may we roll in maggots all our lives, at your Divine discretion. Amen.”
The others said, “Amen.”
Billy’s mom began to serve. She plopped big yellow gobs of macaroni and cheese (with maggots replacing the pasta) onto their plates. “Mmm, I love the smell of freshly baked maggots,” said Pops. “You feel that way too, Billy?”
“You bet I do! Nothing beats mom’s maggots,” Billy enthused, filling his mouth with maggots and cheese.
“Oh, you two. You’re going to give me a swelled head.”
“You are swell! And so are these delicious maggots!” Billy said and they all shared in a hearty laugh. Also on the menu that day: fried breaded maggots, a maggot and blueberry smoothie, a salad with bacon bits, croutons and maggots. And bread.
“What’s for dessert?” Billy wanted to know.
“Crème maggot brulee,'” Billy’s mom said.
“Oh boy! Thanks mom. You’re the greatest!”
“Well, now Billy, I can’t take all the credit. Because I get my maggots from Wertham’s Worms. Every maggot is flash frozen at the peak of freshness. All Wertham’s maggots are farm-raised, so never touch icky decomposing bodies, fecal matter, or rotted garbage. Wertham’s Worms does this, so you can feel better about giving maggots to your family.”
Is the place to get
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