Shrine of the Holey Pie

"All shall bow down before the holey pie..."
- The Pieble -

"...those with no kneecaps may stand"
- Revised Edition -

Many generations ago, in a small bungalow just outside Ipswich, Mr Joseph Phigh achieved a landmark in British cooking. In an attempt to cross a quiche with a rhesus monkey, Mr Phigh inadvertantly created the first pie. It was not his first attempt. Understandably, it took a great amount of effort refining and enhancing his recepie, until he finally decided that the fruit gums were not the ideal filling and replaced them with real fruit.

As you may have noticed, the Pie got its name from Mr Phigh, though the spelling was changed so as not to confuse those with a lesser grasp of the English language, namely the Irish, Welsh and Scottish. The story of the newborn pie spread rapidly through the land. People from as far as Manchester came to see this amazing feat of then modern cooking technology ( A bowl and a wooden spoon ). Many visitors brought strange exotic gifts, such as fried cheese, peanuts and boot polish. None of these were of any use to Joe, who instead fed them to his chickens. Needless to say, his recepies started to use fewer and fewer eggs.

As the Pie became renound throughout the known world (Ipswich), Joe took it to visit many places, miraculously changing the lives of the people who ate of it. Its crumbly pastry wrapped around a juicy filling revitalised the tongues it touched. It was hailed by many as a saviour of the cooking profession. However, not all agreed. The powerful empire of the daytime TV chefs, which ruled most of the country back then, did not take kindly to this 'heresy'. They set out to discredit the pie, branding it as little more than a home-made quiche. In the time that had passed, the pie had aroused a great following, with more and more people dedicating themselves to it. And, in a way, it's success was it's own downfall. It had attracted many of the wrong people, out to exploit anything at any opportunity. One such man was Jude S Carrot, a student chef from Cardiff, who followed the pie, but was not convinced of its holeyness.

The daytime TV chefs became enraged and sent out patrols of student chefs and small sausage dogs to hunt down Joe and the secret Pie recepie. The following had managed to hide Joe well, but he was then betrayed by one of his trusted friends, Jude, who told a patrol of the hiding place. That night, Joe and his followers went into Joe's garden to give thanks to the great lord of the pies, when they were surprised and bombarded by small hors d'oueves and cocktail sausages. From the bushes leapt the daytime TV chefs, who arrested Joe for ruining their ratings and generally being a better cook than them.

The daytime TV chefs used their powers to wrongly strip Joe of his job, house and marble collection. He was then forced to drag a large wooden pie all the way down his road to the TV station. There, they sat him on the pie and tortured him on live TV by flogging him with stale porkpies. Finally, he could bear it no longer, and his sanity gave way. He was forevermore cursed to an eternity of washing up for the TV chefs. It is said that at the moment his sanity gave up, his sacred pie recepie tore from top to bottom, and an ice cream van in Aberdeen imploded for the fun of it.

To this day, we remember the Pie as our saviour, opening our eyes and mouths to new exciting meals, and getting rid of that annoying ice cream van. Joe now rests with the lord of the pies and is remembered as a saint. We rejoice in the name of the Pie, and give praise for the sacrifices made for our tastebuds.

Here endeth the first lesson.

1. You do not talk about Pie club, except if you have run out of mustard, in which case you may
2. No smoking, especially in the presence of small pies
3. Obey the ten commandments, on punishment of death by papercuts
4. Obey the words of the Arch-Piemaster, on punishment of a prompt backhand

1. Thou shalt not eat pie without your blessed pie fork
2. Thou shalt not eat your neighbour's pie without his blessed pie fork
3. Thou shalt not cook pie from any recepie other than the hallowed ones to be provided here
4. Thou shalt not watch daytime TV chefs at any time of the day
5. Thou shalt give praise to the holey pie by eating pie every Pieday (Previously known as Friday)
6. Thou shalt not complain, or even point out, that there are not ten commandments

Men of the Table Cloth

Ladymen of the Dishcloth

The Ever-Nodding Cow  

 

The ever-nodding cow is a symbol of how pies will continue to be made, as long as cows keep nodding. Recent outbreaks of BSE and Foot and Mouth Disease have given rise to the production of the Cow-Nodder^TM which is in the process of being distributed throughout the globe, for use on trublesome cows which refuse to nod. This device is attached to the cow's head and plugged in to a 500V industrial power socket. It encourages a cow to nod by stimulating the appropriate part of the brain with high voltage electrical impulses. On some occasions, in particularly stubborn cows, the Cow-Nodder^TM may overload and essentially plug the cow into the mains. This can be bad. Not only for the cow, who ends up spread across the field, but also the unfortunate farmer who has to pay the electric bill.

This site was made as a little bit of fun to bring a smile to a few faces.
None of the material on this site is intended to offend. 
If you are offended, then... well... umm... bye?

You can email the Arch-Piemaster to confess your pieish sins or deliver praise for opening your eyes to the ways of the Pie.

Now be on your way, child, and may the Pie watch over you in all that you do...

IMPORTANT NOTE:    The Arch Piemaster does not have a name. He never has and never will do. Any rumors you may have heard to the contrary are False. You may address him as either Arch-Piemaster, Valill, or Sir. Nothing Else. Addressing him by any other name or inferring that he has a real name will result in immediate expulsion from the fellowship and damned to an eternity in Phell.

  people have had their eyes and mouths opened to the ways of the Pie