Bloody Mary

One morning our Dickie woke up livid. Wrathful, incensed, massively peeved. Why? Because he had suddenly realised a terrible thing: that Bloody Mary bangers didn’t exist.

Dickie didn’t want to live in the kind of world where the Best Hangover Cure On Earth was not available in high-quality porky sausage form. And quite frankly who would? So he set to work righting this disgraceful wrong. It wasn’t easy, in fact, it took years.

Balancing the rich tomato with the punchy pork was hard enough, but then there was the vodka. Too much and it would start attacking the meat. Not enough and there would simply not be enough. Add celery salt and Tabasco to the mix and you’ve got yourself some sort of sausagey tightrope act. Except not as good as that sounds.

But Dickie persevered. And persevered. And persevered a bit more. Until eventually he had created a sausage he actually wanted to eat – and a world he actually wanted to live in. Now the rest of us can live there too.