Ode to the Battered Savs...

...from an admirer...we dont know who...but whoever you are...you have tugged at our heart and ham strings.

This ode was sent to us from an anonymous admirer (probably female, 24 or 25 years old, blonde, not a scerrick of hail damage), probably after the big charity fund raising event at the Australian Centre for Continuing Research into Strange Diseases Contracted From Eating To Much Pig By-products (ACCRSDCFETMPBP) where we played cricket for 7 weeks straight (tip-and-run) and received cash from big sponsors for every wicket taken, run scored, and beer drunk. A huge sum (before expenses) was raised and we sincerely thank those who made it possible (i.e. us).

Ode to the Battered Savs

Have you eaten out at a take-away?
Whether it be fish or chips that you have;
And have you ever spared a thought...
For that poor old ... battered sav.

Now battered women you'll read about,
And battered children as well;
But no-one speaks of the battered sav
And its life of torment and hell

This tale it is a simple one,
It's not that hard to foller;
I was lined up for my fish and chips,
And saw the sign "Battered Savs... one dollar."

The place was really busy that night,
In fact, it was fillet to the bream;
My old mate Trev Alley was in the line
And I was just ahead of him.

Now battering savs just wasn't on,
The idea just left me aghast;
So I had a chat to the lass who was serving
... Marie ... an old friend from my past.

"Why do you batter your savs?" I said,
"I thought you were nice peaceful folk;
Seems though.. you're a bunch of sadists..
Or p'raps it's some kind of sick joke.

Now Marie... she talks sorta fishy like,
Been serving seafood for too long;
"You're a bit green round the gills there lan,"
She said, "Perchance there's something wrong."

"Why do you batter your savs? " I said,
"Why can't you just leave 'em alone?"
"We do it for the colour," Marie said to me,
"So's they're nice and golden and brone."

"Just mullet over, lan " she said,
"A sav is red OK?"
"We batter 'em so's they're golden and brone,
'Cos people prefer 'em that way.

"I don't care about the cala marie," I said,
... And the people behind me just chatted...
"I want a sav that's been treated decently,
I don't want one that's been flamin' well battered.'

Now we oyster go out together...
And some lovely times we've had;
I said, " Do you batter these savs yourself,
Or do you leave the job to your dad?"

"Dad.... eel mix up a slippery batter,
'Cos his mussels are bigger than mine;
Mine are tailor-made for the job,
Mum says I do it reel fine.

"And I like to do it, lan," she said,
And her sweetlips showed not a glimmer of guilt.
I've got this bucket and rack out the back,
Dad had 'em porpoisely built.

I batter all sorts of things here," she said,
I batter chicken and fish as well."
And I always thought she was the peaceful kind,
But it just shows, you never can tell.

"Good Cod!" she said, "lan what's wrong,
You've gone all pale and wan;
I don't believe what I'm herring," I said,
"I'll flake out if you go on."

"Ex-salmon carefully your conscience,
Your part in this....... your role,
And don't be flathead having savs being golden,
Or you will flounder in your sole."

"The whiting's on the wall," I said
And she looked at the sign "Battered Savs,
I stick up for the underdogs," I said,
"The have-nots and not the haves."

"Will you place your order," the bloke behind said,
"Five minutes I've had to wait!
Do ya wanna battered sav or don't cha,
Just make your mind up, mate"