I like the taste of fairies. It’s like fruit and honey with a little bite of hot pepper on the tip of the tongue, and it pleases my tummy. You put a fairy in your mouth, and it just dissolves, melts like European chocolate—not any of that chalky American garbage—and it buzzes the brain with the electric of a thousand cups of coffee, without the crash. You’d think because fairies are these little humanoid creatures, there’d be a certain crunch when you bite into them, but no, they’re perfect little humanoid creatures of fudge. I’ve developed a distaste for the wings, though. The wings are like lettuce. I don’t eat vegetables. I like the taste of fairies.
I carry my fairy-catching net around London with me all the time. I figured that, because this is the United Kingdom with all its Celtic and Arthurian myths and legends of magical beings, I’d basically be walking into an all-you-can-eat fairy buffet, but little did I know, imperialism and industrialization and urbanization (and tourism) seem to have scared the fairies into hiding. I’ve looked up where to find them: way up north in England and in Scotland, or over in remote regions of Ireland and Wales—they’re all inaccessible on my limited budget with limited means of transportation. Being a fairyhunter for a living, I could make some big bucks selling my catches on the black market, but unfortunately, I eat everything I catch.
Until I can summon the willpower to sell a fairy instead of eating it, London’s parks are my only hopes for finding fairies. Not the big parks like Hyde Park, whose fairy potential have been torn to shreds by commercialization, but rather smaller, lesser known parks, out of the way of Central London. With my fairy-catching net slung over my shoulder, I ventured on an hour-long bus ride to Battersea, where I got some Chinese food in case I didn’t catch any fairies to eat, and went on a hunt in Battersea Park.
There were buttloads of ducks and geese floating in the huge pond that greeted me upon entering the park, but, as far as I could see, there were no fairies. The only sign of fairy activity I found was a floofy little white puppy running and jumping everywhere at nothing in particular, which made me wonder if the fairies were all vibrating at a frequency invisible to my eye. Upon walking deeper into the park, humankind’s shaping of the natural landscape became apparent—the park was confused. It seemed the only pure nature was around the pond by the south entrance; deeper in, the park became a weird hodgepodge of attractions. In addition to the forested pond, there was a garden, a lawn, a pool, a zoo, and a pagoda, among other things. Nothing made sense. It was like someone dumped together twenty-three different puzzles, removed seven-ninths of the pieces, and blindly put them together. It was interesting, but there were no fairies. I did, however, find what was presumably the vomit of an ogre or a troll. It was green and chunky, but not nearly as tasty as a fairy.
My other excursion for fairies was to Kew Gardens in Richmond, but the only tiny edible critters I found there were mosquitoes and tons and tons of bees. They don’t taste like fairies. I didn’t want to waste the adventure, though, so I frolicked through the park like a gleeful moose, swinging my fairy-catching net at whatever I felt like, and admiring the largest collection of plants and trees in the world. I almost ate a peacock, but I decided against it. I didn’t exactly realize before I went to Kew, but the Gardens themselves are symbolic of the bane of fairies in England—imperialism. Kew features gajillions of plants from all around the world, representing the imperial prowess of Great Britain, so basically, Kew, next to museums of stolen artifacts (such as the British Museum), is one of England’s many ways of bragging about itself.
I just wish I could have munched on some fairies, but instead I had to settle on eating Cadbury chocolate, which, fortunately, tastes and feels similarly enough to a mouthful of fairies that I’m convinced it has some fairy chunks in it. It makes Hershey taste like chalky rubber.