A strange and wonderful event occurred last June. World changing, in fact.

In a damp low-budget laboratory somewhere (nobody cares exactly where) a brand new flavour was discovered.

Sounds simple, sounds somewhat less than profound, but think about it for a moment. Try to describe the flavour of salt in terms of the flavour of sugar, the flavour of coffee in terms of the flavour of chilli, describe sweet in terms of sour (without using the word ‘not’).

This discovery was not of a composite, was not of a mixture of currently available flavours; it could not be referred to as “slightly sweet but with a bitter undertone” nor was it “fruity and heady”, “chocolate mixed with vanilla…”

No, it was new and unique: it was a pure flavour that had previously been unknown.

Why world changing? Why wonderful?

Simple: it was a nice flavour!

It was not as though some reclusive and bearded academic had discovered the taste of shit for the first time. Oh no, it was more like a tanned model with perfect skin and perky tits had discovered the taste of sex for the first time and desperately wanted to share the discovery using her tight young body as the vehicle.

Well, a minor exaggeration: a young attractive post-doc had stumbled across a flavour to rival sweet.

Companies had leapt forth and invested billions, purchasing the rights, copyrighting the name (Galore), flinging all manner of products into ovens and vats and supermarkets in a great search for the next chocolate; the next quarter’s (or century’s…) profit.

Galore-flavoured ice cream, galore-flavoured biscuits, galore-flavoured sweets, drinks, lip-balm; even galore-flavoured condoms! Galore galore.

I loved it; I devoured it in every form (well, almost every form). It tingled on the tongue, invigorated the blood; widened the eyes and electrified the loins. It turned a boring gateau into a mouth watering delight; a typical pie became a thing to die for.  Lovers moved from chocolate to softgalore (yes, you could heat it and smear it and transform the foreplay into the main event!).

Was it worth it? Well, look at me now a month on.

Look at me in this chair.

In this hospital.

Look at my shedding skin, my yellow hair, my bloodshot eyes, my shrivelled legs. The late stage effects, they say, are the most unpleasant… I guess I’ll soon find out.     

God yes, it was worth it.

You don’t have any galoresnaps on you do you?