The all-night kebab shop was called Abrakebabra and had an interesting and varied menu, renowned for its northern specialties. Among local favourites were such gems as the kebab pastie, the fried four-meat pie (battered and onna stick), the donner pizza (known locally as the 'doner' pizza - little did they know how close to the truth they were), and the chicken Maryland (two pieces of fried chicken, bacon, two sausages, battered pineapple fritter, fried tomato and mushy peas, all on top of chips), which looked like someone had already been sick in the box.
One night, staggering gently home after a lock-in at our new favourite local, we noticed the large amount of rats eating discarded take-away and feasting on puddles of vomit deposited by drunks (or was it just a dropped chicken Maryland?). This provided us with an idea for another money-making scheme.
Whilst in India we had noticed that the rats loved peanut butter, and before the extent of the problem with the Sam’n’Ella had been realised, had used it to keep the population down. We loaded rat traps stolen from a farm and pets supplier with peanut butter we shoplifted from the supermarket down the road, Supabargin, and collected the bodies every morning. We sold them to the kebab shop owners, who were lacking in scruples and more than happy to have a cheap supply of meat. After some weeks we caught ourselves a fox, something we had not thought of before. It seemed a shame to waste all that beautiful fur, so we skinned it before we sold it on. We spent some time admiring this lovely pelt, wondering what we could do with it. Then we struck on a goldmine - fur accessories sold as fake fur! We killed a few hours in the library on the internet checking out how best to achieve this, and experimented with our first stole. We were impressed with ourselves, and quickly decimated the local fox population. This was too much of a good idea to let go, so then we started trapping local cats and dogs. To sell these goods we resurrected our collapsible stall and once again found ourselves a cosy spot at the back of a near-by market.
Business had never been better at the Abrakebabra, the rat meat was a real hit, and could be passed off as almost anything as long as it had chilli sauce on it. We were getting busy now, this was becoming something approaching a full-time job and the money was rolling in.
One night, staggering gently home after a lock-in at our new favourite local, we noticed the large amount of rats eating discarded take-away and feasting on puddles of vomit deposited by drunks (or was it just a dropped chicken Maryland?). This provided us with an idea for another money-making scheme.
Whilst in India we had noticed that the rats loved peanut butter, and before the extent of the problem with the Sam’n’Ella had been realised, had used it to keep the population down. We loaded rat traps stolen from a farm and pets supplier with peanut butter we shoplifted from the supermarket down the road, Supabargin, and collected the bodies every morning. We sold them to the kebab shop owners, who were lacking in scruples and more than happy to have a cheap supply of meat. After some weeks we caught ourselves a fox, something we had not thought of before. It seemed a shame to waste all that beautiful fur, so we skinned it before we sold it on. We spent some time admiring this lovely pelt, wondering what we could do with it. Then we struck on a goldmine - fur accessories sold as fake fur! We killed a few hours in the library on the internet checking out how best to achieve this, and experimented with our first stole. We were impressed with ourselves, and quickly decimated the local fox population. This was too much of a good idea to let go, so then we started trapping local cats and dogs. To sell these goods we resurrected our collapsible stall and once again found ourselves a cosy spot at the back of a near-by market.
Business had never been better at the Abrakebabra, the rat meat was a real hit, and could be passed off as almost anything as long as it had chilli sauce on it. We were getting busy now, this was becoming something approaching a full-time job and the money was rolling in.
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