Modified cardback, bespoke blister, 3D-printed models, acrylic paint.

“During the first UK lockdown, I noticed that the hostas that were growing in pots in my garden weren’t being eaten by slugs and snails, as they typically had been. Then I noticed that the slug and snail trails that criss-crossed my garden in the mornings had abruptly disappeared. On a humid summer’s evening, a huge rat bounded into our house through the open back door — starving, desperate, and willing to ignore the smells of human and cat in favour of the smells of food that hung in our kitchen. We were relaxing in the heat of our living room, but immediately leapt up and chased the rat outside, slamming and locking the doors and windows in a panic. Over the next few days and weeks, I observed several large rats in our garden, scurrying the perimeters in search of food. I suddenly realised where the slugs and snails had gone… each one a delicious, plump, gooey snack for a starving rat — unable to enjoy the drunkenly abandoned kebabs, accidentally dropped chips, and other ‘restaurant refuse’ of the city, the rats had found their way into our walled garden and scoured it of anything edible.

Then videos started to appear on my social media: starving rats fighting in the street, savagely killing and eating each other — in broad daylight.

Emboldened by famine, the naturally cautious rats (that were always there, but never seen), had become frantic beasts — living embodiments of these unprecedented times. Like the virus itself, the rats were recast as frantic biological assailants — yet another attack from Mother Nature”