'I'd like to buy my wife something for Valentine's day'.
'We've got the perfect gift for a man like you, the one-of-a-kind Swarovski Great White Shark Tooth and Crystal necklace'.
'Sounds expensive, what'll that cost me, an arm and a leg' I joked.
The saleswoman fixed me with a cold stare.
'These phenomenal beasts are very rare, and we employ the finest South African fishermen to catch them. Then, of course, there's the cost of preserving the creature, exporting it on ice to Antwerp where premium diamond cutters who are pioneering cutting edge techniques to encrust the teeth with crystals make by hand the necklace. And, of course, the crystals themselves aren't cheap.'
'Right. It sounds a little out of my league, I'm not sure I can afford it...'
'... Oh but Sir, it's such a special day and your wife will love it, every woman does.'
'You're right, and, I mean, I've seen the photos of Cofer Black wearing his...'
She shrieked with delight.
'I knew you had taste, Sir! I'd imagine you're in the same league as the former CIA man'.
I blushed. She was becoming decidedly more coquettish as she sensed a sale and I have to admit I was charmed.
'I suppose I could put it on my credit card...' I murmured to myself.
She demurely fluttered her eyelids and looked at the floor, as if to miss my shameful submission to the allure of the Swarovski Great White Shark Tooth and Crystal necklace. I fought to regain my composure.
'But what on earth would she wear it with', I mused, with a sly glance at the fish.
It's head swerved swiftly in my direction, and as its lifeless black eyes pivoted in their rubbery sockets I realized, unavoidably, that I was its prey.
'Would you like me to model it for you?' it roared, without moving its malevolent grin.
I started backing towards the exit, trying to resist the urge to turn my back on the beast and flee in all out panic.
'It looks particularly stunning against a frenzied blood pattern'.
I thought of that poor, foolish bastard who went swimming in the Cape Town bay last summer. I noticed a flash out of the corner of my eye as a camera flashed.
'You'll be front page news tomorrow, mate!' an amateur pap heckled as I removed my wallet and offered myself in the best Jesus Christ pose I could muster, my head turned heavenwards, my eyes fixed upon the faulty neon light in the ceiling, resignedly accepting my fate.