Hello, Freddy. You know, my previous interview was with the sublime Red Velvet Cake. You’re not quite as beautiful. In fact quite the opposite, if I may say so.
Of course you may – you just have. And I’m sure you get to meet all sorts in your profession – the good, the bad and the ugly. But I don’t compete with anyone but myself, and other fatbergs of course. I’m certainly not jealous of any cake, red velvet or otherwise. They help to make me what I am.
Really? How so?
The butter smeared in the bowl after you’ve finished making the cake? That’s me. But of course it’s nothing compared to the grease in the pan when you fry your bacon. That’s me too. Everything you put down the drain is me.
And that’s what accumulates to make you so big?
Absolutely. You say I’m big, but as fatbergers go, I’m thin. However I’m very ambitious. I’d love to break the record. That was in 2013, Kingston upon Thames – fifteen tons and as long as a double-decker bus.
Wow! What’ll happen if you get that big?
I’ll be delighted. I’ll block the sewer completely so all the waste will flow out into the streets. And it’ll take a dozen men a fortnight to break me down using high-pressure hosepipes.
Why not stay as you are? No one would come and destroy you then.
I can’t. I’m too generous. Any fat that comes along wants to settle in, make itself at home, so I do all I can to make it welcome. Fats of a feather clog together, you know. There’s a wonderful sense of lipidarity here.
So if you do get really big, it’s basically our fault.
Mmm. The dust goes under the carpet, the fat down the drain. Somebody else’s problem. But I’m not complaining. If you didn’t do that, I’d be totally undernourished. I’m not too worried, though, with Christmas coming up – all that fat from the turkey soon to come my way. Delicious!
Perhaps people will be more careful this year.
I doubt it. There have been advertising campaigns to tell people to stop. Fat lot of good it does.