Dylan is the latest young person to go under the knife in search of beauty. He now has sixteen new stitches in his chin.
Within seconds, the entire butchery department had come rushing out to help -presumably concluding that since they were already covered in blood a little extra wouldn't do any harm.
Rachel murmured, 'Er, do you think that, perhaps we should, er, take him to the doctors?'
But Mark was impressed by the Head Butcher's credentials. Not only was he the supermarket's first aid expert, he was also responsible for fire safety. And, if that wasn't enough, he had also held the same position in a hotel that no one had heard of.
Keen not to offend anyone while Dylan bled all over the floor, Rachel agreed the butcher could spray him with something marked 'antiseptic'.
We then abandoned our trolley and fled the scene, leaving the supermarket stackers to remove the bloody courgettes. Or at least turn them over to avoid upsetting future shoppers.Our first stop was the nearby Medicentre, which charged us the equivalent of 95 GBP to put a plaster on Dylan's chin. They then sent us to the hospital because some Du-bai-law insists that stitches on children's faces can only be done by plastic surgeons.
Aeons later, lovely plastic surgeon, Dr Marc, had sewn Dylan's chin together, after buying his silence and stillness by stuffing him full of jam doughnut.
All in all, a bargain trip to the supermarket at around 500 GBP.