Every branch of Waitrose west of the M25 has been cleaned out of vol au vents, Pimm’s and prawn sandwiches, as panic buying Cardiff-centric hoteliers, restaurateurs and chip vans stock up in readiness for the arrival of beloved rugby brethren from the other side of Offa’s Dyke.
“Fortnum & Mason hampers have been selling like Welsh cakes, and we’re down to our last pound and a half of fruit tea,” claimed Rupert Bear, head ponce at the Howells Food Hall on St Mary’s Street. “It’s going to be carnage, especially if England win. For God’s sake keep your children safe at home: the streets could be running pink with Prosecco Blush 2011.”
Police attention has turned to opportunistic spicy carbohydrate suppliers active in the capital city’s famous Chip Alley district, as reports surface about meat products of unknown provenance. “We’ve been offered some right funny shit,” burped a well-known kebab magnate who wished to remain anonymous. “What we thought was lard turned out to be liver from an overweight goose. There’s no way we’re offering customers that, even if they are English.”
Meanwhile, as the two teams complete their pre-match preparations, uncertainty surrounds the selection of Owen Farrell at fly-half for England ahead of a potential ‘kicker-takes-all’ contest with Wales’ Leigh Halfpenny.
“If he does play, whoever comes out on top could be taking kicks for the Lions in the summer,” gushed the impartial John Inverdale, while rhythmically rubbing his hands up and down his legs. “The way Halfpenny looks up at the posts before he strikes the ball, presumably recalling the hardships of his Welsh upbringing in a cave; it’s so touching – literally. And then there’s Owen – it’s all in those gorgeous eyes with Owen – a majestic presence with his clenched buttocks, chiselled hair and designer bloodstain. He can slot my conversion any time he likes.”