Bad Daddy (Donkey)

If you walked past the wooden benches situated just outside Tajima-tei on Leather Lane at around 1:30 this afternoon, you may have witnessed a disturbing sight.

You may have seen some chap, bespectacled and bereft of hair, wearing some fake Japanese parka, breathing hard and heavy.

You may have flinched as he tore into his brown paper bag and began sniffing like a warthog, all over some silver packaging.

You probably winced and felt a wave of revulsion as he ripped into its contents with his teeth; spilling meat, rice, beans and cheese upon his lap.

You probably backed away, frightened and scared as he looked up and met your eyes with his very own; red, wide and malevolent.

You definitely clutched your throat and raised an arm aloft as the thick, hot, sanguine sauce dripped from his lips and onto his stubbled chin.

And you definitely span on your feet and carried yourself away, as fast as those pretty, tall Jimmy Choos could carry you.

You very nearly stacked it on the stairs.

I am sorry if I frightened you little lady but you see, I was very, very hungry and I think I ate that Daddy D in under 60 seconds flat.

If it's any consolation, I now feel extremely turgid and uncomfortable and embarrassed with myself.

And I am now lying on the office floor.