Sally was the doyenne of jam making; raspberry, plum, gooseberry – all were favourites, but she needed a new challenge. Then the hamsters died.
Skinned, boned and thoroughly cleaned, here was the perfect challenge. Plenty of sugar, a few preservatives and, of course, a good tablespoonful of pectin to aid setting. The smell was a little unusual but the proof of the pudding, so they say…
As trusting as ever, Malcolm poked a hole in the cellophane cover on this jar of unnamed jam. He was unable to guess its provenance. His nose wrinkled a little. Warily, he spread a little onto the edge of his toast. One mouthful was enough and it was all he could do not to gag and disgrace himself. In disgust he hurled the complete jar out through the window.
Strangely, next morning, outside that window there was a neat clump of tulips; strange, perhaps, but everyone knows that tulips come from Hamster Jam.