“Marion! He’s here!”, Dorcus shouted raucously from the tradesmen’s entrance. Marion, who had been chatting to Gustav in the kitchen, took her leave and went down the narrow corridor to meet the rat butcher, Amos Burroughs. She had been daydreaming all day about her date with Amos and had chosen a fetching rose-coloured dress. She’d even applied some eye makeup, but her watery squint was already making the mascara run. Amos was stood at the door, smoking a cigarette. Out of his blood-stained apron he looked even more attractive, Marion thought. They greeted formally, Amos caught hold of her childlike hand and together they made for The Cloven Skull, just a few doors down.

Once inside the dark tavern, Marion and Amos chose a table near the lard wrestling ring. They sat for a few moments, grinning awkwardly each other. She noted how white and uniform Amos’ teeth were and admired them and the tanned face of their owner. Still grinning, Marion said “God, it’s been a busy day. I’ve worked up a real thirst!”. Amos nodded and continued to grin inanely and look from Marion’s eyes down to her chest and back up again. Marion was desperate for a drink and being an old-fashioned sort of girl, began to wonder when Amos was going to go to the bar.

Five minutes had passed and there was still no offer from Amos, so Marion said stiffly, “Amos, I could really do with a drink”. Amos, still with his eyes fixed on Marion’s breasts, asked robotically what she would like. Marion, cheered a little, requested a gin and tonic, lemon but no ice. Amos stood up and groped around in his trouser pockets, then, to Marion’s absolute annoyance, declared “Sorry Marion, I’ve only got a quid on me”. He proved this by showing her a pound coin in his fleshy palm. Marion was not only shocked that a wealthy butcher had so little money on him, but was angered by the fact that it had been he who had suggested the date. Marion however, was desperate for a drink, so she gave a sigh and offered to buy them herself. She stood and gave Amos an icy look as she headed for the bar.

A couple of hours later and a few more G&Ts and pints of Brooms Bowel Strangler consumed, Marion had started to forget Amos’ stinginess and was beginning to relax in his company. The wrestling was about to begin, and the two wrestlers were greasing themselves with lard in their opposing corners. Marion stared open mouthed at the big men, naked except for a rope tied around their waists. A whistle blew and the wrestling match began with the hefty men grappling each other’s lard covered bodies as best they could and tugging at each other’s belts to attempt throws. The match was over in a matter of minutes. More matches followed, while Marion and Amos happily enjoyed their drinks. Eventually the overall winner for the night was declared.

As was tradition in the tavern, the winner would challenge one of the tavern’s customers to a wrestling bout, and if they were to last 3 minutes in the ring they would be rewarded with free drinks for the rest of the night. The challengers usually picked on the weediest looking men, but to Marion’s utter amazement, Amos was picked for the combat. He went visibly white, shrunk into himself and seemed to be trying to slither under the table like a snake, but the challenger was having none of it and pulled Amos up by his shirt collar. The huge wrestler shoved him roughly towards the corner of the ring, where two hard looking women stripped him naked and larded him up. Amos looked as though he was going to be sick as the rope belt was tied snugly around his slim waist.

The wrestling bout commenced. To Marion it seemed that the wrestlers were well matched in terms of height, weight and strength, but Amos didn't look confident. There was a lot of shoving back and forth and gripping of the rope belts. Then suddenly, the wrestler picked Amos up by his belt and launched him into the air towards the outer limits of the ring. Marion watched Amos’s flight almost in slow motion, and to her horror, noticed that he wasn’t the only projectile. As the rat butcher's body hit the floor with a crunch, a set of teeth also fell with a clink beside his slumped form.

Marion suddenly realised that Amos’ uniform white teeth were in fact a set of dentures. She bravely fought back the urge to vomit by knocking back her full drink in three gulps. Feeling faint and dizzy, she leapt up from her chair and was about to exit the pub, when a still naked but roused Amos grabbed her. To her utter disgust, and before she could resist, the lard covered rat butcher shoved his toothless face towards hers and stuck his tongue into her mouth. “Toothless cheapskate!” she screamed, pulling her mouth away from his and running as fast as she could out of The Cloven Skull.

As Marion swiftly made her way through the crowds of Pantiles Market, she wondered if there was a way to salvage the evening. Then it occurred to her that there certainly was! She descended the tunnel stairs, sincerely hoping that the music of Hugo Sex Kitchen could wipe the vile image of Amos' toothless gob from her mind, and his taste from her mouth.