Peppered Shrimp

On a drive thru Mandeville one fall, My Dad stopped at a roadside stall. He bought red shrimp in bags of paper, The aroma was the scent of shrimp and pepper. Baked so well, there was no need to shell, Popped one into my mouth, my Jaw fell. Fire in the hole I yelled, as my sis snickered, She bit into hers with gusto, she was not bothered. My Mom,prepared, handed me a bottle of milk, Took two sips to quench the flame from peppers ilk. As bad as it burnt, that shrimp was so tasty, Bit into another again and again milk now less hasty. An acquired taste this was, this explosion, Of seasoned pepper and shrimp so delightful, Before I knew it I had munched through my bag all full. Tears in my eyes, pepper had my tongue wrapped, Reached for my sis's bag, only to have knuckles rapped. Now with none to munch, it truly set in my colon, Fire below was my scream, looking forlorn. Lactose intolerant, milk and pepper shrimp? Relief stop in the bush, rectum in full crimp. Pontiak