'Now now Paul, I don't think Timothy and Felicity were chasing the dragon,' said Mrs B with a sigh, 'it doesn't look good for you this time Paul, I saw you, behind the Wendy house, chasing the bloody dragon.'
'Yes they were! At first it made them sick but then they really liked it. I told them "no!" but they had already reached the point where you're not bothered about what other people are saying..'
'Come on Paul' said Tim, urging Paul out of the room.
Mrs B furtively looked at Tim, 'You two go home... and take your rancid rotten fermented soya bean paste with you!'
'OK, OK, Tim, get the Miso. It's in the fridge' piped up Felicity from behind Paul.
'Right I'll get the Miso, but I bet Bell has drilled it'.
Bell was an overweight, blonde Labrador who knocked around the kitchen eating whatever came her way.
Tim went into the kitchen.
'She's dead!.. Quick, Bell's dead!'
Sure enough, she had eaten the Miso. She was rife with good bacteria. Good bacteria was oozing from every pore, the stench of fermentation was pickling the room and seeping from each hair follicle on her back.
'Oh Jesus, poor Bell' grimaced Felicity, 'no Paul, don't look!'
By now the bacteria was pumping silently out of her teets like heat erupting through a pan of porridge.
'You and your fucking Miso bullshit!' wailed Paul on seeing the dog.
'Hang on a minute' interjected Tim, 'isn't it society's fault for making Bell want to consume everything in sight?'
'Tim's right, as a mother, you want your dog to have everything that the other dogs have, to the point where it's never enough.' admitted Mrs B.
'Miso is an ancient Chinese foodstuff. Funny this really, considering China's political history' added Fliss.
'It's actually called the 'Peoples Republic of China' now, dickhead'
'Alright Tim, she's just saying that perhaps Bell was trying to communicate to us that communism is going to usurp our western model of capitalism.' said Mrs B.
'Maybe, or maybe she just couldn't get enough of that cold unami flavour!' chuckled Paul.