What is it with modern manufacturers, fans? Do they really think we don’t notice? Nowadays, all too often companies try to create a bigger profit by reducing the quality of their goods, and then selling them on for the same price as before. But why can’t they keep the better quality and just put up the price? …or else, make two versions of the product so that consumers can decide if they actually WANT to buy the inferior one? And as if paying over the odds isn’t enough, unexpected changes in quality can also result in accidents – as evidenced by the unfortunate events of this very day…

It all began when I took the cap off a cheaply made, thinner-than-usual plastic milk bottle, which then flexed in my hands and slipped totally out of my grasp. Of course milk splashed everywhere! So I wiped the table and got up to fetch a mop for the floor, but in so doing I then skidded on a wet patch and fell over. After that, I must have hit my head and blacked out for a few moments, because when I opened my eyes again, suddenly there in front of me, looking ever so worried, was Bumble the miniature Badger.

‘Well, twizzle my whiskers, what are you doing on the floor?’ he cried, bending down to help me up.  Then hearing me mutter vaguely in response, he looked at me and said, ‘If you don’t mind my saying so, you do seem a bit under the weather, Grumpkin. Why don’t you go and sit by the fire while I make you a nice cup of tea?’
‘Nonsense, Bumble, I’m absolutely fine!’ I snapped back at him, hauling myself upright. ‘It’s okay, I’ll make the tea. You sit down at the table and leave it to me.’
‘Well, all right, if you’re sure…’
‘Bumble, you are talking to the world’s one and only Aristocratic, Lion-Hearted, Acrobatic Super-Rat! Of course I’m sure, now hand me that teapot.’

However, while I was getting on with the drinks I failed to notice the badger mopping the floor behind me, using one of the many cleaning products that he’d found in my cupboard. The result of that was, that as I finally turned round to see what he was doing, I lost my footing for the second time, and went crashing down onto the tiles.
‘Oh, no – not again!’ exclaimed Bumble. ‘What happened, Grumpkin?’
‘What do you mean, what happened? Are you trying to kill me? What on earth did you use on this floor, it’s like an ice-rink in here!’ I complained, as I rolled over and scrambled to my feet.
‘Well, I’m ever so sorry, I can’t understand it. I used Squeakie Kleen, the same stuff I always use,’ Bumble answered, looking puzzled. ‘It’s true, though, it does seem a bit greasier than usual. What do you think?’ he said, frowning as he placed it in my hands.

I sniffed it and winced at the unusual fruity smell. Then I took a little between my fingers, and it felt light and oily to the touch. ‘This product doesn’t seem right to me,’ I said suspiciously. ‘Something about it has changed. I wonder if cleaning fluids can turn bad?’
‘It’s possible, I suppose,’ said Bumble with a shrug, ‘but more likely than not the company has just modified the ingredients. Never mind, if you like I’ll mop the floor again with water to get the grease off. But I must say, Grumpkin, all this work is making me quite thirsty. How’s that cup of tea coming along?’
‘Coming right up!’ I replied, giving the two steaming mugs a final stir. ‘Why don’t you take a break now, Bumble, and sit down for a minute?’
‘Good idea,’ the badger said. So I opened a new packet of biscuits, and then we took our seats at the kitchen table. However, it wasn’t long before we noticed yet another odd thing.

‘I say, Grumpkin, do these biscuits taste all right to you? They seem to have lost some of their usual flavour.’
‘Yes, you’re right, I guess they must have been modified too!’ I agreed with surprise. ‘They’re sickly sweet now, with no other real flavour at all. Tell you what, I’ve got some chocolate snack bars somewhere. Why don’t I just get them out and we can have those instead?’
‘That sounds great,’ said Bumble.
So with that, I got up and rummaged around in the larder for the packet of goodies. Then once I had found them, I tipped them onto a plate and handed them to the waiting badger.

But as soon as I sat back down, I realised that instead of tucking in, Bumble was picking them up one by one and then putting them back on the plate. There was a bemused look on his face, and so I asked him what was the matter.
‘Well, all the wrappings seem normal size,’ he said, ‘but the chocolate bars inside feel really small. Here, see for yourself.’ And he passed the plate to me. Sure enough, I peeled off one of the wrappings only to find a tiny wee snack bar hiding within it.

‘I don’t believe it, I paid full price for these!’ I snorted in disgust. ‘It’s daylight robbery, that’s what it is!’  
‘Yes, and that’s not the only thing you’ve overpaid for,’ remarked Bumble, pulling a new bottle of detergent out of the shopping basket on the table. ‘This has been seriously watered down, I’m afraid,’ he said, shaking it to demonstrate the sloshing sound. Then he reached in for something else. ‘And as for this roll of sticky tape, it’s never going to pull out properly,’ he went on, prizing off bits and pieces in useless little slivers. ‘It’s no good, Grumpkin, you might just as well throw it in the bin.’
‘WHAT! That’s ridiculous, what’s wrong with it?’ I cried indignantly. But sadly, the badger was right. As hard as I tried to unwind the tape, it kept tearing off in narrow, jagged strips, leaving the end of it quite lost and invisible on the roll. I was absolutely fuming!

‘I mean, REALLY!’ I exclaimed, throwing the detergent and the sticky tape abruptly back in the basket, ‘to think that almost everything I’ve bought today is sheer rubbish! Well, I can tell you, all this is going back where it came from, and then I’m jolly well going to give that shopkeeper a piece of my mind!’ So saying, I threw back my chair, jumped up angrily, and stormed towards the door. And with that, the next thing I remember, there was Bumble the miniature Badger, bending over me and looking ever so worried…

‘Well, twizzle my whiskers, what are you doing on the floor?’ he cried, bending down to help me up.  Then hearing me mutter vaguely in response, he looked at me and said, ‘If you don’t mind my saying so, you do seem a bit under the weather, Grumpkin. Why don’t you go and sit by the fire while I make you a nice cup of tea?’