Shaggy blog story: Chapter 12 by Shazia Mirza
21 August 2007 - The Guardian
"A Welsh meat packer in Kosovo wants to buy you and your sister for ten grand."
My heart stopped and as he stared at me grimacingly, I stared at the KFC - I was starving and barbequed chicken was just something I could get my teeth into right now.
The Welsh meat packer was Mr Tobias Collins: double-barreled surname, Paul Smith suit, fake tan, not your usual meat packer but oh, the quintessential Welshman. An entrepreneur. Wearing snakeskin shoes, he walked through the door and gave me a devilish grin. "Hello, my name's Mr Tobias Collins but you can call me Kokfanring which is my real name. I'd like you to come downstairs and see my meat shop." I was so scared I just followed him down a narrow meandering staircase onto the High Street. Straight ahead of me was a big red door which he opened with a big gold key. "Come in," he boomed. I walked in behind him and saw the most unbelievable sight. This was no ordinary meat shop. It was a collection of very famous dead people stuffed with various crystallized sweetmeats including fudge, hokey pokey, and Fortnum and Mason fruit jellies. They all had huge pricetags on their heads, ranging from ten thousand to billions of pounds. It was a beautiful sight, and I asked Kokfanring if I could take some pictures on my camera phone. "No, it is too dangerous to use that in here,", he replied, "but I can take you into the deep freeze where we have some people in, waiting."
He led me into the back and opened a big steel door, where a gush of dry ice blew into my face and to my horror I saw ...