Then, when I respond to their puzzlement, they make noises verging on retching.
One morning, when ten of us were having breakfast with R. S. Thomas at a hotel in Aberdyfi, Wales, black pudding was on the menu. Bob asked Thomas what is was.
Thomas replied, “It may make you dizzy.”
Bob gave him a how-so look, and Thomas said, “Let’s both order it, and see who keels over first.”
According to my notes, “R.S. had sausage, bacon, and black pudding, with toast and tea.” My notes are silent about Bob, but he and R.S. remained upright throughout the day.
Some days later, in the lounge of a hotel in England, as the ten of us were looking back over our two days with Thomas, one of the memories was: “R.S. could kid and take a kidding.”
By the way: Black pudding’s made with pig’s blood. I’ve tried it, several times; so far, no dizziness.