Week 774: Tour De Forks


Ikeaburger: A Swedish meatball, plus 214 other individually packaged ingredients that you assemble yourself. Caution: Failure to add ingredients in the specified order will render the dish useless.

Last year right around this time, we asked readers to come up with a name for a new cocktail and describe it. Now it's time to sit down and eat. This week: Supply a name for a restaurant dish named after someone (or some product or organization) and describe it.

Winner gets the Inker, the official Style Invitational trophy. Second place receives -- concentrate: this is complicated -- a large red nylon kite, from which hangs a blue and white parachute, from which hangs a muscle-bound, bearded action figure who is wearing a zippered jacket but no bottoms except for a pair of black underpants with a white Iron Cross on the front and back. This dazzling item was rescued by the Empress from a newsroom wastebasket, where it was consigned by someone who clearly was not considering the needs of The Style Invitational. It won't fly without a crosspiece, but it hangs up swell.

Other runners-up win their choice of a coveted Style Invitational Loser T-shirt or yearned-for Loser Mug. Honorable Mentions get one of the lusted-after Style Invitational Magnets. One prize per entrant per week. Send your entries by e-mail to losers@washpost.com or by fax to 202-334-4312. Deadline is Monday, July 28. Put "Week 774" in the subject line of your e-mail, or it risks being ignored as spam. Include your name, postal address and phone number with your entry. Contests are judged on the basis of humor and originality. All entries become the property of The Washington Post. Entries may be edited for taste or content. Results will be published Aug. 16. No purchase required for entry. Employees of The Washington Post, and their immediate relatives, are not eligible for prizes. Pseudonymous entries will be disqualified. This week's contest was suggested by Kevin Dopart and probably someone else we forgot about; write in and we'll credit you later. The revised title for next week's results is by Beverley Sharp. This week's Honorable Mentions name is by Roy Ashley. This week's headline is by Brady Holt. The Empress just farms this stuff out. What a gig.

Report From Week 770, In which we asked you to take a moment in history, or a famous scene in literature or drama, and transport it to another era:

4. Hercules' Fifth Labor: Cleaning out the Augean Inbox. (Tom Witte, Montgomery Village)

3. 1795 to 1998: Martha: "She showed you her WHAT?"
George: " 'Twas an undergarment, yet as much like a bridle, with no substance."
Martha: "But pray tell, what was she doing under your desk?"
George: "Well, I cannot tell a lie . . ."
(Jeff Brechlin, Eagan, Minn.)

2. the winner of the Washington Nationals Abe Lincoln bobblehead:
1941 to 2008: Charles Foster Kane mumbles: "Grand Theft Auto IV." (Roy Ashley, Washington)

And the Winner of the Inker

1864 to 2007:
Maryland activist Barbara Fritchie raises the flag and shouts:
"Shoot if you must this old gray head,
But spare your country's flag," she said.
And for such defiance brazen,
The Frederick cops gave her a tasin'. (Peter Metrinko, Chantilly)

More Shifty Characters: Honorable Mentions

1989 to 1599, at the local tavern:

Sally to Harry: "O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful!"

Gentlewoman to serving wench: "Zounds! Methinks I shall partake of that selfsame victual which yon maiden hath of late consumed." (Beverley Sharp, Washington)

2008 to 1941: A Japanese sailor posts YouTube video of the air fleet leaving to attack Pearl Harbor, forcing Japan to cancel the attack and seek peace with the United States. But the U.S. doctrine of preemptive war leads to an American sneak attack on Japan. Worldwide condemnation eventually leads to U.S. disarmament, U.S. domination of electronic and automotive markets, and a sumo-wrestling Super Bowl LXII. (Scott Mack, Reston, a First Offender)

Metro section, a long time ago: An unemployed couple, Adam Sonofdirt and Eve Daughterofrib, were evicted yesterday from their subsidized cottage in Eden Gardens. The two allege that their landlord used an agent provocateur to trick them into violating a minor clause in their rental contract involving fruit grown on the premises . . . (Ari Unikoski, Tel Aviv)

1967 to 3500 B.C.:

"I want to say one word to you, Benjamin. Just one word."
"Yes, sir."
"Are you listening?"
"Yes, I am."
"Bronze." (Russell Beland, Springfield; Kevin Dopart, Washington)

If Apollo 13 were manned by World War II Royal Air Force pilots:

James "Ginger" Lovell: I say, Houston, bit of a sticky one here!
Control (pausing while lighting pipe): What's the prob, Ginger?
Lovell: Bally oxygen tank's gone pop. Going to have to flip the old kite round the moon and ditch her in the briny.
Control (dropping match): Blimey! Hang in there, chaps! [Turns to assistant.] Marjorie, dear, better put the kettle on. (Andy Bassett, New Plymouth, New Zealand)

Peter Abelard (1079-1142) in Yoknapatawpha County, 1920s:"Hush, Luster said. Looking for them ain't going to do no good. They're gone." (Kevin Dopart)

2008 to 1860: Talk radio analyzes the Lincoln-Douglas presidential race: Abraham . . . Isn't that some sort of Jewish name? (Chuck Smith, Woodbridge)

If the baby carriage scene in "The Untouchables" were set in ancient Peru: The stroller wouldn't roll down the pyramid because the Incas didn't have wheeled vehicles. And so the baby and mother would live happily ever after -- until they were sacrificed as part of a fertility rite. (Robert Doherty, Daleville, Va.)

1963 to 1369: JFK in West Germany:

And certes, if you can herre me above this din,
Ech free man, wherever he may lieve, is cityzen of Berrlinn. (John O'Byrne, Dublin)

2008 to 1863: Fox News bulletin: In a landmark ruling today, the Supreme Court has struck down President Lincoln's radical labor law, the Emancipation Proclamation, 5 to 4. "The right to set wages and working conditions belong to employers," wrote Justice Antonin Scalia. Conservative activists were elated: "This ruling means jobs! Not jobs that pay money, exactly, but . . ." (Cy Gardner, Arlington)

1976 to 1776, the play "Hackney Coachman":

Mr. Bickle buttons waistcoat while standing in front of a looking glass, musing:
"Sir, to whom are you speaking?" [Brandishes dueling pistol, then tucks it into the sleeve of his blouse.] Is it I? Might you be speaking to me? To whom in the Devil's name would you be speaking, my good sir? [Pauses, turns around, turns back toward the looking glass with a saucy smirk.] "I appear to be the only gentleman here." (Francesca Kelly, Bethesda)

Next Week: Groaner's Manuals, or How-To Doody