I was recently smuggled into a military installation near Guilin, west China. The guards seemed indifferent as I entered a large white non-descript building, greeted first by a tank, and then ushered quickly by munitions cabinets housing armor piercing projectiles of every description, and finally into a room to be confronted by a female officer in battle fatigues, whose efficacious glare confirmed by fears that confrontation was not an option. I was in the knife division. So this is the fate we have in stall for us. Not a swift annihilation from a stealthy WMD, but a gory, and terrifying one-on-one with cold steel at close quarters. A demonstration followed, delivered with the sort of disciplined precision, one normally associated with Samurai warriors. Twelve inches of cold steel was held as at angle to produce maximum deadly force, and brought down with a remorselessness on an unsuspecting cucumber, that would make Claude Van Damme wince. But it doesn’t stop there. An object I can only describe as looking like a potato peeler, continued to mutilate that innocent vegetable. So simple death isn’t enough. Torture is part of the game plan. Get me out of here. I’ve seen enough. I’m about to make my speedy exit, and ready to jump the guard when a strong hand grabs my arm, and a Chinese voice says, “Only 200 Yuan for the set. I’m getting one for my wife”. I froze like a Red Setter. What could this imbecile be referring to? Was it to throw me off guard. “And they are throwing in the peeler”, exclaimed the stranger. A bead of cold sweat drilled into my forehead, as a surreal realization started to bubble below the surface. Army, kitchen knives, peelers. “Come this way”, said a voice with a typical military directness. Being too confused to disobey, I was led into a room, floor to ceiling high with toe nail clippers, belt buckles, watches, fountain pens. I grabbed a fountain pen, twisted it open, and shouted into the hidden microphone, “you won’t get me to confess!”. The floor erupted into laughter. “Please, let me show you our latest range of designer watches, made from surplus and re-cycled armaments and munitions”. Dazed, confused, and now more embarrassed than a Monica Lewinsky stain, I started babbling incoherently that I was an out of work Hollywood actor, just preparing for an audition, and to pay no heed to any unusual behavior on my part.

Arriving back at my hotel that evening. I pondered the days unusual event, and started to piece together the conflicting emotions. So this was the Chinese military build up we have grown accustomed to hearing so much about. Judging by the division of military labor and it’s use of raw materials, they are obviously preparing for a strategic offensive on the culinary world. It is time to dispatch a coded message to our Chief of Defense, Martha Stewart.

Agent Qwerty 007