Dessert/Desert

"Sir!" The soldier saluted smartly. "Prisoner, sir!"
"Eh? Right then, bring 'im forward. What's 'e done?"
"He's a deserter, sir, of the worst kind!"
The commanding officer raised an eyebrow. "And which kind would that be?"
"Bread and butter pudding, sir!"

It's Melbourne, it's Spring. There was meagre attempt at a thunderstorm last
night: a flash of lightning, a few distant rumbles, and a brief spatter of
rain. Now the northerly wind is drying the world and it will be another hot
one.