Limited Stock For Christmas 2016: Jacques' Own Reindeer Jelly

Wrong religion? No religion? Tough. Taken from The Hampstead Buzz circa 1920, this one goes out to all the readers whose taste in Christmas opulence is truly exquisite. Limited stock is now available.

Triple filtered for a smoother taste, Jacques' Own pulverised reindeer bits jelly is perfectly suited for all your pantry needs. Whether it's to make up for a complete lack of culinary skills, or just for the sake of getting something foreign in there, we've got you covered.

Each reindeer is "personally" inspected by Szemloklolski and his band of merry men, so you can be sure that whenever you choke down the horrible slimy mess that constitutes Jacques' Own, you're eating Sweden's Finest. Never has fulfilling your strange fetishes centred around a day of Judeochristianicmessophallicprotomuslamic debauchery been so easy. Or so good.

For every jar of our crap you buy, we donate a picture of a happy white family eating far too much turkey to a Syrian child refugee person sadly deprived of such things. Rustic Air Farce (RAF) volunteers are more than happy to do their bit for the sad children of this world, ensuring that every shipment of Western capitalist propaganda arrives with a well received BANG; with a warm fuzzy feeling that is just like home.

The more ethically inclined reader may object to the grotesque act of greedily imbibing triple filtered meat-and-finely-powdered-antler derivatives, but we ask them this: Why get in the way of others' fun? So what if it involves unimaginable amounts of needless cruelty? It's not hurting anyone (Hmm... -Ed), although, if you don't shut that mouth of yours we might just start hurting you in a minute. Besides, the reindeer are practically asking for it. One can only accumulate so many fragrant esters and long-chain hydrocarbons before somebody wants to find out just what it does. With Jacques' Own, you can find out too.

Sadly news of our incredible product has reached rival food scientists at the fast food conglomerate informally known as Sam's, who upon hearing of our catering brilliance quickly deployed a flock of highly militarised espionage pigeons. Jacques' Own is no more.