I’m a forensic entomologist, I’ve observed every grotesque remnant of human decomposition and its concomitant evidence of heinous crimes but the most perplexing was a victim’s extensive taxidermy collection congregating like a macabre audience in her living room where she was decomposing.

They were frozen perpetually in scenes of frenetic gaiety with miniature champagne glasses and a chess table with a vulgar mouse in a tu-tu salaciously positioned upon it for a line serenading rats. Debauched rodents were ubiquitous in her living room on every surface; I’m certain the white powdered snorts were simulated drug consumption!

These creatures solemnised her undignified demise with their impeccable suits reminiscent of debonair aristocrats and one anachronistic ferret petrified in a Liverpool united knitted jumper.

Taxidermist rodent pornographer was her sobriquet, designated by my flippant colleague, and she became notorious in our lab and the story evokes raucous laughter every time someone remembers.