Find the odd one out:

Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact 1939
Processors Alliance for Cocoa Traceability and Sustainability ©2013
The Poetry Pact 2014
Treaty of London 1518

Correct, the answer is The Poetry Pact 2014 because, unlike the other three, it does not exist.

Neither, in fact, is it in any way a positive or progressive agreement that will benefit the concordant members in addition to large numbers of the public. 
What it is, however, is a disastrous and violently botched contract, formulated in a three minute conversation during which Robert (previous Berfooda contributor - see below for orange Booth triangle) and I committed ourselves to four subsequent days of moral and emotional turmoil. The initial principle was one of mutual support; a 'you do it if I do it' clause whereby we would both write and read original poetry in support of the Oxjam Beats and Bars. Despite the apparent pleasantness of the pact, we failed to acknowledge the fact that neither of us are competent and/or confident enough to write the poetry, let alone read it aloud. We therefore descended into small scale panic, perhaps even denial, refusing to withdraw from the pact yet also refusing to definitively commit. The resultant action, therefore, was a climactic crumbling of morale, and we both pulled out a mere two hours before the show, turning to comfort eating and prolonged sighs of relief. I would thus like to apologise first and foremost to Oxfam and all the organisers of the event, whom we abandoned ashamedly, and secondly to all those people (i.e. one person) who turned up to the event hoping to see us make enormous fools of our pretentious selves. If the one person who did turn up to see us would like to be reimbursed for their effort, come round to our house any night of the week and we can provide the pseudo-intellectual pomp you were searching for. 

So that brings us neatly on to this week's/month's triangle. Yep, it's sham themed.

The pfoodo (1 point) recipe below relies upon an axis of deception. It looks disgusting, but it tastes delicious. There is room for extra embellishment, especially if you think you have particularly outstanding skills as a chef of fugly cuisine, but make sure you stop yourself from trying to make it look edible, as that would only shatter the fundamental illusion.

Basil pesto
Tomato purée
Grated cheddar cheese
Sliced green olives
Chopped cherry tomatos 
Salt
Pepper
A little sugar
Olive oil
Fusilli
Spaghetti

1) Mix together the first 8 ingredients in a pan. Try and get equal quantities of pesto and tomato purée in order to achieve a nice, even brown paste. 
2) Cook pasta as you always cook pasta.
3) Combine the two, chobbling up the whole thing to obliterate all semblance of edibility. 

If you can manage to get hold of any of Heinz's horrendous and thus discontinued coloured ketchups, then DO. They will make even the most elegantly executed tuile of a meal look like crayola vomit. 

While you're eating this deceptive dish, crank up that volume dial (if you don't have a volume dial, and instead rely on + or - buttons, reassess your entire life ethos and invest immediately) and insert this playlist of pseusic (1 point):

Morning Wonder - The Earlies
Lonely Lonely (Frisbe'ed Remix) - Feist
Mi Mujer - Nicolas Jaar
Luna Y Sol - Manu Chao

These are all fake-singalong songs. They pretend to have user-friendly lyrics, easy melodies and understandable rhythms, however they are actually just the noise equivalent of a bowl of noodles. If you can make it all the way through the whole list without realising how a) off key or b) inhuman you sound, then email me your address and I'll post you a prize. A fake prize, of course. 

As much as I would love to share with you some of my attempts at poetry, if I couldn't do it on the night, I certainly can't do it on the internet. So instead I'm going to toss Raymond Queneau's Cent Mille Miliards de Poèmes in your direction. It is a book of one hundred thousand million sonnets, all written by Ray himself. OR IS IT? Due to the very nature of the theme, obviously not. It is, in fact, a collection of 10 sonnets - each with the same rhyme scheme and metrical structure - cut up along each of the fourteen lines, so that each can be rearranged in 10¹⁴ different ways. Incredulous? Well good luck proving it, cos it would take one reader approximately 190258751 years to read all possible combinations, by which time u w!11 b ded.