the landlord's domain - clickable at last
Eyam, the plague village. Where the residents so nobly cut themselves off from the outside world, to prevent the spread of the disease. But what about the village next door? Having to live next to THAT! You're just having your dinner, and this wet red face slaps against your window, delirious with fever, and croaking "help me - I'm dying of the plague, it's quite serious". If that happened to me, I'd have to push aside my Zabaglione For One, and pass on desert. Imagine them all walking around the streets, all strips of skin hanging off them and tattered clothes, walking into lamp-posts and rolling around in puddles. Well, I'd not like that at all. The beer's OK though - tastes like strawberries.