This is a snippet from another Lonnie and Tiny story.
Lonnie’s Resurrection Eggs
excerpt from “Lonnie, Me, and the Resurrection Eggs”
by Marian Allen
Every woman made them a little bit different. Mary Lee made hers with mayonnaise and onion powder and mustard and salt and pepper and paprika. She called hers Stuffed Eggs. Leona mashed her yellows up with sweet pickle relish and Miracle Whip and called hers Resurrection Eggs. Lonnie’s had so much pickle relish in them you couldn’t hardly see the yellow.
“I will not eat green eggs and ham,” I said and laughed.
Lonnie planked the plate on the table. “It wouldn’t kill you to try them.”
Served me right for quoting literature to Lonnie.
I picked one up and bit into it. It tasted like nothing on Earth, and I don’t mean that in a good way. It was hard to tell, with all the flavors whupping the tar out of each other, but I would take an oath in court there was some kind of fish in there. Sardines? Anchovies?
Lonnie popped one in his mouth, managed to chew it up and swallow it, and looked at me all sorrowful and betrayed, like I had made the damn things.
I apologized to my stomach and swallowed my bite whole. For a few seconds, I thought Lonnie’s Resurrection Eggs were going to live up to their name and rise again.
“Lonnie,” I said, “what have you done?”
“Well…. Leona’s are good, and Mary Lee’s are good, so I figured if I put in everything they both use and my own special touch, mine would be better.”
His own special touch. Yeah, that would be sardines. “I can’t honestly say they are, buddy.”
“But we gotta eat ’em. I made a whole dozen.”
“Why, Lon? We watching Cool Hand Luke tonight?”
I didn’t even answer that. I’d just show him the movie, and he’d see.
A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Write about something that is definitely not better for a compromise.