Mr Fooful owns the sweetshop on the corner of Barnet grove. He is of medium height with dark receding hair and a perfectly trimmed moustache. He wears a white slightly stained apron in which he carries a silver scoop for measuring sweets and occasionally threatening children. He lives in solitude in the one bedroom flat above his shop. He is known by all but a friend to none.
 
There was once a time when Mr Fooful was not so mysterious. He used to live in a little cottage at the end of Peardrop Crescent with his Hamster Beatrice and his agoraphobic cat Bessie. At this time Mr Fooful and his sweetshop were known throughout the village, he was especially famous for his Strawberry Creams. Mr Fooful was a friendly chap, always ready to greet each customer with a smile and a complementary licorice allsort.
 
Beatrice the hamster had always wanted to go on holiday and, when MrFooful thought she was big enough to be out of danger of falling through the gap in between the aeroplane seats, he decided to take her on a chocolate tasting holiday to Belgium. Business was booming and so it was decided that a suitable person should be found to run the sweetshop in Mr Fooful's absence. The search began but none of the candidates lived up to Mr Fooful's high expectations, they were either too short to reach the top shelves, to tall to hear the children or too fat to fit behind the counter. As the last interviewee left Mr Fooful sighed and shook his head in despair. Where oh where would he find someone to manage his sweetshop, it was hopeless, the holiday would have to be canceled. At this point Beatrice began to cry. Then Mr Fooful spotted something gleaming on the floor. It must have been something the last interviewee had dropped as Mr Fooful prided himself on keeping his shop immaculate As he picked it up he realised it was a business card, the name on it was "Strawberries and Cream" and on the back it had a picture of a medium height, slim young lady with blond hair whom Mr Fooful thought was really quite attractive. "Perhaps..." he thought to himself, perhaps she is the one..." and without delay he dialed the number. 5 minutes later Mr Fooful put down the receiver relieved and confident his shop was in good hands. A week later him and Beatrice said their farewells to Bessy and the children and left for a lovely week of chocolate tasting.
 
On their return Mr Fooful was anxious to make sure is high standards had been adhered to. He quickly unpacked and walked down to Barnet Grove. As he approached his pride and joy he noticed there were less children than usually and people seemed altogether less friendly. Mr Fooful was curious but put it down to the paranoia of over exhaustion (he had tasted a awful lot of chocolate that week). This relief was short lived and horror soon struck Mr Fooful as he entered his sweetshop, his most prize possession had been violated! The carefully arranged jars of sweets were in disarray ad empty wrappers lined the floor. Where there were jelly babies there were now battery operated devices, where there were licorice allsorts there were now strangely small plastic garments, where there were peardrops there were now videos and the jar that once contained Mr Foofuls belove strawberry creams was now filled to the brim with strawberry flavoured rubber items. Strawberries and cream was standing behind the counter winking it was too much for Mr Fooful and he fainted.
 
From that moment on Mr Fooful vowed never to leave his precious shop again. He and Beatrice quickly moved into the flat above the sweetshop (they had to leave agoraphobic Bessy behind) where they lived a quiet uninterrupted life together. Mr Fooful never trusted a single soul again.