Bastards Of Advertising - Richmond Sausages

This is a television ad for Richmond sausages. Our hero is, for want of a better word, a Bastard. One of those Bastards that want to build luxury flats on hills - you know the sort. Bastards. He's having a spot of lunch with his slightly more portly Bastard friend, who probably drowns kittens and reads the Daily Express in his spare time. We shouldn't feel too bad though, because they're eating in a restaurant so ball-achingly bad that the chef proudly announces that he uses Richmond sausages. Sausages that are, food fact fans, 51% pork. Or, to put it another way, sausages that are only slightly more than half meat. This is food for Bastards, by Bastards, with Bastards. These aren't sausages, they are near-sausages. Almost-sausages. Slightly-sausagey-bags-of-gristle-and-shite.

This culinary chaos is dwarfed, though, by the dramatic scenes outside the prandial shit-fest. As the food is served, a gang of quite literally five or six protesters are shouting and waving 'No Luxury Flats Here' placards at a nice man on a shiny digger who's really just trying to do his job. The tension is palpable. Fortunately, one mouthful of almost-sausage triggers a Proustian deluge of memories of days when it was quite literally 'all fields round here'. Inspired, the former Bastard jumps to his feet and starts waving ineffectually at the window, a gesture dwarfed in its futility only by Richmond asking us to believe that their products are actually sausages.

So, there you have it. Richmond make almost-sausages for Bastards that used not to be Bastards and would like to be ineffectual Not-Bastards again.

And so it is with great pleasure that I invite everybody involved in making both this ad and Richmond kinda-sausages is to be the inaugural members of my Bastards Of Advertising Hall Of Bastardry. You are all Bastards.