When the schoolmaster from Pink Floyd’s The Wall tells you, “You can’t have your pudding, if you don’t eat your meat,” leave the yard, take the lift, and visit the loo. Any good British schoolboy should have a secret stash of pudding hidden there in a secret compartment. Eat the delicious pudding. Discard the gross meat in the toilets.
Trick Douglas, the weird kid, into trading you his pudding for your meat.
Pretend that you have a gluten allergy. Insist that there is gluten in meat, but that pudding is gluten-free. That way, they’ll have to give you pudding, for fear of legal action.
Reverse psychology. Say that you haven’t had your meat, but that it doesn’t matter because pudding is stupid and you didn’t even want it in the first place. They’ll definitely cave and you’ll get the pudding. Works every time.
Take a cup of pudding. When someone in a position of authority asks you if you’ve had your meat, say, “Yes, I’ve had my meat.” Chances are they won’t follow-up, but just in case, have a few facts ready about the meat like, “It was a little gamey for my taste.” Or, “Great marbling!” This will get you the pudding.
Build an elaborate system of pulleys via which you take the pudding and swap it out with meat. Remember what Tom Cruise did in that first Mission Impossible movie — something like that, but with pudding and meat.
Get a dog. Put your brown, stinky meat on the ground so the dog eats it. There you go — meat’s gone. Go get yourself some tasty, tasty pudding. Note: make sure the dog doesn’t like pudding, or else it’ll all be a wash.
Ask for some meat, but then give the server special instructions to, “Hold the meat, but add extra pudding please.”
Go around and buy up all of the meat. Hold on to it and maintain your monopoly. Create artificial scarcity to drive up the value of meat. At the same time, begin an ad campaign which claims that meat is the best, most exquisite food in town, and that you’re a nobody unless you have some meat. Wait for the demand for meat to skyrocket. Now, jack up the price of meat specifically so that it costs pudding. Sell the meat to the unsuspecting masses and collect their pudding.
Offer someone a bet that you could eat a whole bunch of pudding — like, a ridiculous amount of pudding — but that you need an empty stomach, so you can’t have any meat first. It’s risky, but it’ll work because you know people are going to want to see you eat all of that pudding.
Say that Jewish dietary law prohibits you from eating meat before you eat pudding. Literally no one is going to fact check you.
Bury your meat. Steal the pudding.
Conveniently lose your fork and knife, but keep your spoon. When you get your meat, just poke at it, futily, with the spoon. Make a big show about it. Make everyone really uncomfortable. Eventually, someone will feel sorry for you and give you some pudding, unless they give you a knife and fork, at which point you’re kind of screwed.