I’d had no luck the normal way. Searched catalogues, perused the internet; I had even gone to the hospital to enquire.
At last, when Dodgy Derek from downstairs accessed the dark web for me, I found what I was looking for in the form of a glossy advert.
The webpage promised speedy delivery, with all items in stock. There were so many to choose from: glossy untainted ones; bloody misshapen ones; slow-beating ones that were steady and sturdy. Mine was useless. Broken.
I called the number on the screen, put in an order for a heart the advert said was unbreakable.