lightning-hime asked: 2 April 1998. 6 pm EST
On April 2, 1998, at 6 PM Eastern Standard Time, in the Great Smoky Mountains, somewhere in North Carolina, a witch accidentally added speakroot into a batch of homemade barbecue sauce. He thought it was black pepper.
(It should be noted that speakroot only vaguely resembles black pepper, but as he had a horrific cold, he wasn’t thinking properly.) (His ability to cook was unimpaired, mostly thanks to his cast iron cauldron, a family heirloom).
Now, speakroot is an interesting poison. It’s not deadly, but it does silence anyone who eats it for about three days.
Being a witch of the Southern traditions and persuasions, the young man invited a gaggle of folk to his dinner table, inadvertently silencing the lot of for a long weekend.
Far from being put out, the group laughed (completely silently) as the poison took hold of their voice boxes and continued their meal (which was fantastic, toxin aside) (though some would say, if they could, the cornbread was a hair dry).
Using a series of notecards and hand gestures, the young witch invited the group to stay with him until the speakroot eased it’s herbal grip.
Strong coffee was served in the morning, stronger moonshine was served at night. Pie was omnipresent. Games were played (checkers primarily), will-o-wisps were chased, and ghost stories were “told” via pantomime.
So fun and successful, the Silent Supper has since become an annual tradition!