Carny Desires of the Fried Variety 

For a Fair full of rides, side shows, and games. None of those ever seemed as interesting as the array of fried and fattening delicacies offered by fair food stands. You could get anything deep fried in these places, from fruit, to candy, to a whole stick of butter. Darlet wanted to see just how much he could eat tonight, and perused the endless stalls of buns selling their own specialty recipes. 

The first stand he arrived to featured various flavoured Macarons shaped like the different Imps sold in the Imporium. "Are you interested in a Peachy Phloof? Perhaps a Strawberry Sceil? Ah, but our Chocolate Chirop are to die for! Just 10 Carats!" Darlet looked briefly. The alliteration was cute, and to be fair they had more colours in every shape. But his nose didn't lie. These sweets were all food colouring. The scent was uniform, samey and bland. Real fruit would have been much more fragrant, especially when considering how fresh they'd need to be. Big batches like these were unrealistic. 

Darlet still bought one. It was vanilla and plain just like he expected, but the owner of the shop seemed to be very happy to get someone with their scam. Not that he minded, it was still something to eat. He rated it three out of ten. The next stall would surely be better. 

And that it was. A stall featuring a pan of roulette fried rice balls. Each sporting a crispy and flaky outer crust, brown and blackened spots where they were left just a little too long on the heat. He couldn't contain his excitement, ordering the mixed variety of different rice balls. A sweet and sticky glaze placed over them as they were handed off. The attendant silently bowing slightly to him as they moved on to other customers. This one he didn't hesitate to devour, and just as quickly as he had ordered them the paper dish that held the rice was a crumpled ball in his hand. Not a crumb remained. The flavours were all over the place, one tasting fishy and almost like it was soaked in a squid ink sauce. Another ball was filled with chunky strawberry filling, and another after that with some kind of soy bean and potato mash. Each flavour was like the cook made a filling ball every time, no two were the same. He wondered just how many different ingredients he had back there. 

The overall experience of the roulette rice balls. A definite ten out of ten. Darlet hoped to keep this tour de food on a roll. Good thing the next stop was sweet rolls. Then to the Dango stand where several people who were definitely not Dan were doing their best to mimick his recipes. Plenty of other food stalls with forgettable menus popped up, making it easy to keep grabbing bites here and there to keep himself satisfied.

The make shift tents and stands kept going like this until a large wooden structure appeared before him. It looked like somebody constructed an on land pirate ship in the center of the fair grounds. He would have mistaken it for a ride if the pungent smell of fish didn't assault him when he go close. A wooden sign hung on salt rusted chains. The Jolly Roger. It was practically its own restaurant, and Darlet wondered how it had gotten here when he was very sure it hadn't been before the fair. Not that he was going ask too many questions with his stomach growling again. 

He pushed open the creaky wooden doors to the ships interior. The whole place looked sea washed and splintery, but yet there were buns lined up at the bar and in booths cheerily enjoying themselves some ale and wine. This would be a bonus to his main focus of the day. Approaching the bar, a bright red coat tied stood infront of a deep fryer. The sizzling oil popping and splattering grease into the air as they lifted a basket of fried fillets. Darlet was salivating just watching this take place. This was the most official place he'd been to all night. 

When the coat turned around, a muscular figure was stood inside of it. A brolick pirate, eye patch, wooden leg and all. Taking immediate notice to Darlet they seemed to smile as they approached the counter. "Ah, ye look mighty famished. Welcome to the Jolly Roger. I am Bacardi, the cook of this here ship wreck. Aye, it seems I couldn't quite see where I was sailing, and docked a wee too close to shore." He itched at the skin under his eye patch briefly, as if trying to bring attention to the impairment. "But perhaps while I'm here, ye would be interested in me finest catch of the day. I call it, Seaweed Salmon." He fishes out the fillets he had been frying, cracking one in half and handing a piece to Darlet to try. The inside was dark green, seemingly layered in seaweed leaves. He took a soft bite, and the grease from the fryer along side whatever seasonings these seaweed had been soaking in left a fairly slick and salty texture in his mouth. The fine layers snapping in unison with each crunch to make for a satisfying shred when the breading was chewed away. 

"Damn. That's not what I was expecting. But I gotta say that left me wanting more. What else do you got? I might need to sample the menu." This was not a question, every other stall until now was just a means to an end. This was the main course. "Oh. And a pint of your finest. Whatever you recommend." Darlet didn't plan on leaving this place any time soon. He had officially found the best spot in the whole fair. 

"Aye, you've got it matey. I'll keep ye tipsier than a brewing storm, and fuller than me pirate booty." Bacardi winked. Or maybe blinked. He wasn't exactly sure with the eyepatch. But the pirate moved about, more than happy to take to the patrons, refilling wooden mugs and collecting empty trays. He worked alone, but so swiftly and effortlessly that Darlet could tell he was passionate about this place. Even if it was just a stand for the fair. When he returned, he set a thick red drink down. "This. Me own personal brew. The Right Half of the Red Sea. If I gave ye the left half, I'd have to put a pharaoh in it for garnish. Me pirate booty don't be that rich." He laughed heartily before turning back to the kitchen area. 

The rest of the night was a blur, but he did remember several dishes that made him feel like he was eating more grease than food. Hush Puppies and Tartar in-between orders cooking. He could even swear he and the people around him joined together in song at one point. By the time he was conscious enough to realize where he was, the stall was all but empty. Bacardi was left at the bar washing the nights mugs. "Oh hell. What the fuck happened..." Darlet raised his head, a pool of drool and possibly grease lined from the counter to his cheek. 

"Ah. Yer finally awake. The fair closed for the night. Ye wouldn't budge after I filled yer gut with me wine and grub. Took to song, and then laid a tired head in me chowder. No budging ya from that thar seat yer in without bumping ya something fierce. I told the crew to leave ye be. Ye was good faith in company." He spoke with a kind smile. Although the alcohol took over after a while, Darlet definitely felt he got his fill of food for this fair. He may have to rework the scale for this place, but he rated it an easy hundred out of ten. "Ah. Also, this here don't be me primary place of business. But perhaps ye'd enjoy coming to the real deal." Bacardi placed down a card. The address written on its stained looking paper held an address over by the sea side caverns. "We could use another hearty drinker to keep the place in fashion. Me last good patron abandoned ship for Ms. Hops. But ye got a voice that makes a shanty sound like sirens call. I'd love to see ye around some time."

Darlet gladly took the card. "Oh I'll be there tomorrow."