He knew which were poisonous and which were edible; he knew which were psychedelic; and he knew how to prepare and cook the lot if need be. But it wasn’t just the edible and drugs he was known for. People would consult him (not unregularly) about the poisonous fungi. He would always charge a rather substantial price for the information. In fact, he never divulged the information, but instead he would give them a vial with a prepared potion. They could use it how they wished. He didn’t want people self-collecting their own mushrooms and inadvertently feeding someone a perfectly healthy species when they intended another outcome.
The undercover advertisements for his expertise ran something like this: Put the fun back into fungi – be it food, a high, or a goodbye. Alfred reckoned that several hundred people had made use of his toxic remedies. It was a statistic to be proud of.
One of the great disadvantages of his scheme was that occasionally a victim wouldn’t die, but would go nuts. If that happened then, goodness me, they were a handful. Arnold had that happen to him once when he tried to put his third wife down. She didn’t die; she went bonkers. He had a lot of trouble holding her down while he administered a stronger, more effective, concoction. She still remained resistant so he unfortunately had to resort to another less pleasant method of extermination. That is why in very small letters on each vial is an instruction as to what to do if the person goes loopy.
It has been a very satisfying life for Alfred. He is nearing retirement. He’s looking forward to it. He wants to do what he has never had time to do; he wants to grow things in his vegetable garden, interesting things, and share the produce with neighbours.
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