The Battle of Bellvue

Wow, it’s been a while since my last update! So much has happened…I spent 12 days in St. Johns, Newfoundland for a world choral symposium called Festival 500. What a blast…so many stories to tell that I think I will do them as a series of small posts rather then trying to jam them all into one long and potentially boring narrative. So today, I will relate to you the tragic tale of the Battle of Bellvue, in which Rob decides to take on an army of fresh shellfish…

Pray then, fair reader, undertake to imagine the following scene: a young soldier, after having enjoyed a boat-tour of the bay, finds himself and his comrades together in fellowship at a small house in Bellvue, Newfoundland. A day on the sea will whet even the most severe ascetic’s appetite; thus our young soldier finds himself feeling decidedly peckish. The first order of business is to march with his company down to the local convenience store for to procure some Black Horse, a particularly volatile type of Newfoundland ale, (yes beer is sold in convenience stores in Newfoundland! How awesome!)

Upon requisitioning some of this concoction, the young soldier returns to his lodgings, where much to his dismay, he finds his comrades under attack by 65 lbs of freshly steamed mussels! Without care for life or limb, the brave solider gallantly tied his napkin ‘round his neck, and falls upon the enemie's ranks. Aided by liberal supplies of white vinegar, melted butter and fresh lemons, the soldier manages to rout the enemy hordes, and aided by his companions, lays waste to the villainous mussels, eating no less then 50 of them by himself.

Although exhausted, the soldier was allowed no more then a few minutes rest before the dreadful shellfish launched their next line of troops—hordes of snow crab skirmishers, fresh from the boiler. With scarcely time for a battle-cry and a prayer, our hero found himself surrounded by the enemy. Worse still, their tough armored exterior seemed immune to his attacks! Then, in a moment of providence, the soldier happened upon a pair of heavy-duty battle scissors. With a glad cry, the soldier took the scissors and began to demolish those snow crabs, leg by leg. With no less then eight of the devils down his gullet, the tide of the battle seemed turned in favor of our hero.

Alas though dear reader, for the enemy had not yet done it’s worst. Just when the soldier thought himself in the clear, they came grimly parading towards him. Heavy duty battle lobsters, their armored claws clanking ominously as they closed ranks. Selecting one of their leaders, a hefty 4 lb. monster, the soldier fought desperately to overcome his foe. For hours the fight contuned, back and forth, man against beast, good against evil. Succored only by Black Horse and the hope of a better tomorrow, the soldier desperately pitted himself against his foe. And when the final hour dawned, behold, the lobster lay vanquished and eaten! It’s shell pierced through and through, the meat dragged from it’s claws and tail, it’s very legs pulled off and thrown to the ground. But wherefore our hero? The noble soldier lies in his chair, overcome only seconds after defeating the monsterous lobster! His fork to wave no more, his napkin blowing sadly in the wind, his stomach bulging with his defeated enemeies. Weep, fair reader, weep for the poor soldier who through his sacrifice, saved us all from an army of shellfish. Through his tragic demise are we free from fear of lobster, mussel and crab. Weep, and remember the soldier, that his sacrifice might not be in vain, that his dedication shall not be forgotten, and that his vigilance over the dreadful shellfish shall be a lesson to us all.