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ando beneath, while playing bagpipes on fields of heather?</p><p id="626a">Are they served with tatties, blood pudding, and baked beans, a breakfast for the brave and hopelessly Scottish?</p><p id="8dae">Are they ginger-haired orbs resembling naked troll dolls with rounded bellies and stubby legs of plastic?</p><p id="4612">Perhaps, they’re wee bairns, peely-walley and roond, smelling of siabann and bainne cìche?</p><p id="5877">Scotch eggs, a mystery to me — and so they will stay cause Google says they’re everyday eggs, wrapped in sausage and deep-fried —</p><p id="1b74" type="7">Really? I prefer my eggs commando in kilts!</p><figure id="45f8"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/0*DhLX-yUEAWfizwGm.jpeg"><figcaption>Image Credit: <a href="https://www.widylady.com/products/i-like-kilts-go-commando-tshirt-5956?variant=1000005522919858&amp;gclid=Cj0KCQiA2NaNBhDvARIsAEw55hgSO8-64aErpPQ5qh7mYz4cksfhGcHm43X

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SzouToKYKTqVAWYogDwYaAkC1EALw_wcB">https://www.widylady.com/products/i-like-kilts-go-commando-tshirt-5956?variant=1000005522919858&amp;gclid=Cj0KCQiA2NaNBhDvARIsAEw55hgSO8-64aErpPQ5qh7mYz4cksfhGcHm43XSzouToKYKTqVAWYogDwYaAkC1EALw_wcB</a></figcaption></figure><p id="4a09">In response to this innocent prompt by <a href="undefined">Lucy Dan 蛋小姐 (she/her/她)</a>:</p><div id="4863" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/i-really-want-to-try-scotch-eggs-51739b97202d"> <div> <div> <h2>I REALLY WANT TO TRY SCOTCH EGGS???</h2> <div><h3>so here’s a tiny poem</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*bF8DbnMAYs2G0KaBxvR1cQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

Noodle Prompt / Scotch Eggs

Commando in Kilts

A silly and slightly risque poem

Photo Credit: By Unhindered by Talent — https://www.flickr.com/photos/nicmcphee/1431687174/sizes/l/, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=18524240

Scotch eggs, a mystery to me — are they marinated in Chivas, served as canapes on little silver platters at parties formed around cocktails and chatter?

Are they imported from the land of my MacDonald ancestors, passing through customs and TSA kiosks?

Do they wear tartan kilts, going commando beneath, while playing bagpipes on fields of heather?

Are they served with tatties, blood pudding, and baked beans, a breakfast for the brave and hopelessly Scottish?

Are they ginger-haired orbs resembling naked troll dolls with rounded bellies and stubby legs of plastic?

Perhaps, they’re wee bairns, peely-walley and roond, smelling of siabann and bainne cìche?

Scotch eggs, a mystery to me — and so they will stay cause Google says they’re everyday eggs, wrapped in sausage and deep-fried —

Really? I prefer my eggs commando in kilts!

Image Credit: https://www.widylady.com/products/i-like-kilts-go-commando-tshirt-5956?variant=1000005522919858&gclid=Cj0KCQiA2NaNBhDvARIsAEw55hgSO8-64aErpPQ5qh7mYz4cksfhGcHm43XSzouToKYKTqVAWYogDwYaAkC1EALw_wcB

In response to this innocent prompt by Lucy Dan 蛋小姐 (she/her/她):

Poetry
Silly Poems
Writing Prompt Response
Eggs
Going Commando
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