Oct 1, 2026 · 39 min · 13 segments
(16LS) Fred Award winning clown, Barnie Duncan (Bunny, Different Party), makes us shiver with desire and hilarity in a restaurant cold store. *Rated 16LS: contains explicit language, discussions of…
Donna BrookbanksHost
Shoshana McCallumHostHe spat on his fist, rubbed the saliva around his clenched digits, covering all sides, then forced the fist into his mouth.
... then withdrew his hand, wiped it on his singlet, switched off his bedside lamp, and went to sleep.
Less than a kilometer away, the staff of a recently opened seafood restaurant called Sun Chitteries were cleaning the kitchen after a slow night.
One of the chefs, Margaret- Was on, was tidying up the cold store, arranging the various mollusks on the shelving.
Clams on the top shelf, tuatua on the middle shelf, scallops on the second lower shelf, and mussels on the bottom shelf.
She was mid-bend when Frank, the trainee from Luxembourg, walked into the cold store, bringing with him a large pot of congealed butter.
"Do you mind moving some of the mussels so I can put this butter on the bottom shelf?" [laughs] "You want me to move my mussels? Is that what you want, Frank?" said Margaret.
She was a nymphomaniac and an incorrigible flirt, always filling a room with double entendres.
"Yes, please, Margaret," said Frank, no-nonsense like, trying hard not to inflame any passions.
[laughs] "You want me to move some of my mussels so you can easily access this bottom and, what was it? Shelf something?" "I want to put this butter on the shelf, yes," said Frank, aware that his words were being sewn into a gaudy fabric.
You want me to move my mussels so that you can lube up my bottom- [laughs] ... and shelf your big, hard..." Frank closed his eyes and hopelessly attempted to squeeze his ear canal shut.
He'd only been at Sunchitti's for a month and was hoping to keep his job as a kitchen hand.
He just wanted to keep his big head down and not arouse any untoward attention.
He spat on his fist, rubbed the saliva around his clenched digits, covering all sides, then forced the fist into his mouth.
... then withdrew his hand, wiped it on his singlet, switched off his bedside lamp, and went to sleep.
Less than a kilometer away, the staff of a recently opened seafood restaurant called Sun Chitteries were cleaning the kitchen after a slow night.
One of the chefs, Margaret- Was on, was tidying up the cold store, arranging the various mollusks on the shelving.
Clams on the top shelf, tuatua on the middle shelf, scallops on the second lower shelf, and mussels on the bottom shelf.
She was mid-bend when Frank, the trainee from Luxembourg, walked into the cold store, bringing with him a large pot of congealed butter.
"Do you mind moving some of the mussels so I can put this butter on the bottom shelf?" [laughs] "You want me to move my mussels? Is that what you want, Frank?" said Margaret.
She was a nymphomaniac and an incorrigible flirt, always filling a room with double entendres.
"Yes, please, Margaret," said Frank, no-nonsense like, trying hard not to inflame any passions.
[laughs] "You want me to move some of my mussels so you can easily access this bottom and, what was it? Shelf something?" "I want to put this butter on the shelf, yes," said Frank, aware that his words were being sewn into a gaudy fabric.
You want me to move my mussels so that you can lube up my bottom- [laughs] ... and shelf your big, hard..." Frank closed his eyes and hopelessly attempted to squeeze his ear canal shut.
He'd only been at Sunchitti's for a month and was hoping to keep his job as a kitchen hand.
He just wanted to keep his big head down and not arouse any untoward attention.
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