There will be many days of heartburn at PR & marketing office of Crown Confectionary.
Police Officer: 'Ello.
Mr. Hilton: 'Ello.
PO: Mr. Hilton?
H: Yes.
PO: You are the sole proprieter and owner of the Wizzo Chocolate Company?
H: I am, yes.
PO: Counstable Clois and I are from the hygiene squad, and we would like to have a word with you about your box of chocolates entitled the Wizzo Quality Assortment.
H: Oh yes.
PO: If I may begin at the beginning. First, there is the cherry fondue. Now this is extremely nasty, but we can't prosecute you for that.
H: Agreed.
PO: Then we have number four, number four: crunchy frog.
H: Yes.
PO: Am I right is thinking there's a real frog in here?
H: Yes a little one.
PO: What sort of frog?
H: A dead frog.
PO: Is it cooked?
H: No.
PO: A raw frog??
H: Oh we use only the finest baby frogs. Due picked and flown from Iraq. Cleansed in the finest quality spring water. Lightly killed, and sealed in a succulent swiss quintuple smooth treble milk chocolate envelope, and lovingly frosted with glucose.
PO: That's as may be, but it's still a frog!
H: What else?
PO: Well, don't you even take the bones out?
H: If we took the bones out, it wouldn't be crunchy, would it.
PO: Counstable Clois 'et one of those.
Clois: Would you excuse me a moment sir?
PO: We have to protect the public! People aren't going to think there's a real frog in chocolate. Counstable Clois thought it was an almond whirl. They're bound to think it's some sort of mock frog.
H: (outraged) Mock frog?! We use no artificial additives or preservatives of any kind.
PO: Never-the-less, I advise you in future to replace the words "Crunchy Frog" with the legend "Crunchy Raw Unboned Real Dead Frog" if you want to avoid prosecution.
H: Well, what about our sales?
PO: F*ck your sales. We've got to protect the public! Now what about this one: number five, it was number five wasn't it. Number five: Rams Bladder Cup. Now what kind of confection is that?
H: We use only the finest juicy chunks of fresh cornish rams bladder. Emptied, steamed, flavored with sesame seeds, whipped into a fondue, and garnished with lark's vomit.
PO: Lark's vomit!
H: Correct.
PO: In doesn't say anything here about lark's vomit.
H: It does, at the bottom of the label, after monosodium glutamate.
PO: I hardly think that's good enough! I think it would be more appropriate if the box bore a big red label warning lark's vomit.
H: Our sales would plummet!
PO: Well why don't you move into more conventional areas of confectionary! Like praline or lime cream, a very popular flavor I'm led to understand. Or rassberry light. And then what's this one, what's this one. 'Ere we are. Cockroach cluster. Anthrax ripple. (sound of vommiting in the background)
Narrator: For those of you listening at home, the young counstable has just thrown up into his helmet. This is the longest continuous vomit seen on Broadway since John Barrymore puked over Niotes in the second act Hamlet, in 1941.
PO: And what is this one. Spring suprise.
H: Ah, that's one of our specialalities. Covered in dark velvety chocolate, when you pop it into your mouth stainless steel bolts spring out and plunge through both cheeks.
PO: Well, where's the pleasure in that? If people pop a nice little chocolate in their mouths, they don't expect to get their cheeks pierced. In any case, it is an inadequate description of the sweetmeat. I shall have to ask you to accompany me to the station.
H: It's a fair cop.
PO: And don't talk to the audience...
