Whizzo Chocolate Company

Inspector: 'ELLO!

Mr. Hilton: 'Ello.Inspector:

Mr. 'ilton?

Hilton: A-yes?

I: You are the sole proprietor and owner of the Whizzo Chocolate Company?

H: I am, yes.

I: Constable Clitoris and I are from the 'ygiene squad, and we'd like to have a word with you about your box of chocolates entitled the "Whizzo Quality Assortment".

H: Oh, yes.

I: If I may begin at the beginning. First there is the Cherry Fondue. Now this is extremely nasty. (pause) But we can't prosecute you for that.

H: Ah, agreed.

I: Then we have number four. Number four: Crunchy Frog.

H: Yes.I: Am I right in thinking there's a real frog in 'ere?

H: Yes, a little one.

I: What sort of frog?

H: A...a dead frog.

I: Is it cooked?

H: No.

I: What, a RAW frog?!?

H: Oh, we use only the finest baby frogs, dew-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.

I: That's as may be, but it's still a frog!

H: What else?

I: Well, don't you even take the bones out?

H: If we took the bones out, it wouldn't be crunchy, would it?

I: Constable Clitoris et one of those!! We have to protect the public!

C: Uh, would you excuse me a moment, Sir? (exits)

I: We have to protect the public! People aren't going to think there's a real frog in chocolate! Constable Clitoris thought it was an almond whirl! They're bound to expect some sort of mock frog!

H: (outraged) MOCK frog!?! We use NO artificial additives or preservatives of ANY kind!

I: Nevertheless, I advise you in future to replace the words "Crunchy Frog" with the legend, "Crunchy, Raw, Unboned Real Dead Frog" if you wish to avoid prosecution!

H: What about our sales?

I: FUCK 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: Ram's Bladder Cup. (beat) Now, what sort of confectionery is that?!?

H: Oh, we use only the finest juicy chunks of fresh Cornish Ram's bladder, emptied, steamed, flavoured with sesame seeds, whipped into a fondue, and garnished with lark's vomit.

I: LARK'S VOMIT?!?!?

H: Correct.

I: It doesn't say anything here about lark's vomit!

H: Ah, it does, at the bottom of the label, after "monosodium glutamate".

I: I hardly think that's good enough! I think it's be more appropriate if the box bore a great red label: "WARNING: LARK'S VOMIT!!!"

H: Our sales would plummet!

I: (screaming) Well why don't you move into more conventional areas of confectionary??!!(the constable returns)

I: Like Praline, or, or Lime Creme, a very popular flavor, I'm lead to understand. Or Raspberry Lite. I mean, what's this one, what's this one? 'Ere we are: Cockroach Cluster! -- -- Anthrax Ripple!

C: MMMMWWWAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!! ** For those of you watching this transcript on your terminal, the young **** constable has just thrown up into his helmet. This is the longest **** continuous vomit seen on Broadway since John Barrymore puked over Laertes **** in the second act of Hamlet in 1941. **

I: (continuing) And what is this one: Spring Surprise?

H: Ah, that's one of our specialities. Covered in dark, velvety chocolate, when you pop it into your mouth, stainless steel bolts spring out and plunge straight through both cheeks.

I: (stunned) Well where's the pleasure in THAT?!? If people pop a nice little chockie into their mouth, 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: (shrugging) It's a fair cop.

I: And DON'T talk to the audience.