Do you know this man?
His name is Fergus Henderson. I hardly know him. I met him a few times at his restaurant, St. John in St. John Street. He seemed like a nice chap for a restauranteur but alas I was mistaken.
Examine closely the photo below. He is quite clearly contemplating murder and the possibility of light rain.
Why me you may be asking? Well to cut a long story short he seems to have decided to poison me for no apparent reason.
It all started when I innocently picked up this book written by the lunacidal maniac Henderson himself.
A KIND OF
Amongst all his goulishly macabre food goings on, is one recipe that particularly raised hells alarm bells. A recipe for a sinister cocktail.
It professed to be a hangover cure. “Poppycock, Snake Oil” I cried.
Here are the two satanic ingredients
Only a meat cleaver wielding maniac wearing David Hockney's glasses would mix these two together. He tells the reader not to be “put off by the colour.” No wonder, when mixed it turns to a vile shade of gangrenous swamp syrup, and upon first taste one is convinced that a sadistic practical joke has been played.
And indeed it has.
Because it bloody well works. The hangover disappears as if by Black Magic. It works so well that anybody who tries it will be placed under the spell of Fergus The Poisoner.
I am now a slave to its toxic allure. This fatal elixir was passed on to a younger Fergus Henderson by his father, who may or may not be a Doctor, and may or may not have created it in a medical lavatory. Fergus has now come up with an icecream version so that he can kill your children.
Below is a poster for the sort of film Fergus might dream of appearing in, or it might be just something made up using a shitty free app on an iPhone.