Random Doobings

Captain Doobie surveyed Goodtime Slim's handiwork with a critical eye.
Ooooookayyy," he said, trying to sound knowledgeable, "we've got the dips, the jatz, the little carrot sticks, the drinks are in the fridge, and...hang on."

He turned to Goodtime Slim and pointed at the coffee table accusingly. "What's this?"
Godtime Slim lookerd around him. "Sweets," he replied.
"Yes," said Captain Doobie slowly, as if he was talking to someone who was mentally retarded, "What sort of sweets are they?"

"Um, Anzac biscuits."
"Anzac biscuits and...?"
"Um, Turkish Delight."
Captain Doobie threw up his hands to the heavens. "What on earth are you doing?" he cried, "we can't let them eat that! Can you imagine what will happen in their stomachs?"

"Each well-chewed morsel will slowly digest?" asked Goodtime Slim, nonplussed by all the theatrics.
"No, you fool, it'll be the Dardanelles campaign all over again!"
"Crap."
"Oh really? Then why are those two Anzac buscuits currently kicking the shit out of that bit of Turkish Delight that accidentally fell off the plate?"

Goodtime Slim was forced to admit that in this instance there seemed to be no logical explanation.