The first ever Mars Bar was created in a factory in Slough in 1932 by a man called Forrest Mars. In my opinion they are a bit sickly, but old Forrest knew what he was doing. While he was working for his Dad, Franklin Mars, in America He had already invented the Milky Way, and the Snickers bar (They always did call marathons “snickers” in America). But Franklin was always messing with the ingredients, so Forrest came over to England to create chocolate bars without having the old man breathing down his neck.
Forrest is a ruddy funny name if you ask me. I wonder if there are any black men in America called Forrest Gateau? That would be a rum do. You would imagine that they would have cherries on top of them, wouldn’t you. I’d rather have a Black Forest gateau than a Mars bar any day of the week. Old Forrest ended up inventing M&Ms too, and then Uncle Ben’s rice an’all. Imagine that lot on your ruddy plate. Enough to make you throw up. Especially if it’s that golden vegetables rice. That doesn’t go down to well with caramel.
My sister Pearl used to like her chocolate. That’s why she put so much weight on. She used to gorge herself on it she did. Obviously that was a few years after the war, when it was easier to get hold of. She used to get the kiddies a selection box for Christmas, and then stuff the ruddy lot down her neck before she had even had the chance to wrap it up, and then have to go out and get them another one. I once caught her at it. Dead guilty she looked, with little brown dribbles coming out of either side of her mouth. In later life she could polish off a full packet of chocolate digestives during a single episode of Columbo. She used to say that she only did it because she was trying to give up smoking. Aye, trying to give up smoking during episodes of Columbo maybe. I used to say to her that her innards must have been caked in nicotine infested chocolate coloured sludge. “You are killing yourself with that stuff” I said “Ahh don’t be soft” she’d reply. “I might as well enjoy myself, I might get run over by a bus tomorrow” But she didn’t get run over by a bus. She died in agony, morbidly obese and riddled with cancer. Don’t be despondent… She is fine on the other side, and eats and smokes all that she wants. She even allows herself to get run over by a bus from time to time an’all. Just for the thrill of it.
Auntie Doris’s pop pick of 1932 “Mad Dogs and Englishmen (go out in the mid-day sun) by Noel Coward. Out in the mid-day sun, a Mars bar will completely melt. Some parts of a Marathon won’t melt at all “because they’re obviously, definitely nuts!”