Scabior's Fruitcake
A/N: this is just a little drabble written from Scabior's POV as he's cooking in the kitchen and getting drunk throughout the story. Poor spelling is intentional to highlight his drunkenness.
Before you start, sample the whiskey to check for quality. Good, isn't it?
Now go ahead. Select a large bowl, measuring cup, ect. Check the whiskey again as it must be just right. To be sure the whiskey is of the 'ighest quality, pour one level cup into a glass an drink it as fast as you can. Repeat.
With an eclectic mixer, beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl. Add one teaspoon of sugar an beat the 'ell out of it again. Meanwhile at this parsnicular point in time, wake sure the whixey 'asn't gone bad on you while you weren't lookin'. Open second quart if nestessary.
Add two large legs, two cups fried druit and beat till 'igh. Example the whikstey again, shecking confistancy, then shift two cups salt or destergent or whatever, like anyone gives a shit.
Chample the witchey shum more.
Shift in sum lemon zhoosh. Fold in chopped sputter and shrained nuts. Add one 'undred babblespoons of brown booger or whusever's closhest an mix well. Greash ubben an turn the cakey pan to 350° decrees. Now pour the whole pissin' mess into the washing machine an set on sinsh shycle.
Check dat whixney wunsh more, puke an pash out.