Couldn't resist inserting this sly tribute to my local, The Butchers Arms, Yeovil
, watering-hole to the stars
, into 2000AD, waaaay back in Prog 1356 (Sept 2003):
It's a crap pic-scan but you can just about make out its name on the pub-sign, complete with a tasteless bloodied-cleaver-and-pig-skull emblem. The real pub has a similarly queasy coat-of-arms which I'll photograph and post for you one day.
The Butchers is a legendary ale-house in the West Country. There's many a'tale I could tell of its gin-sozzled denizens...ahhh
, but not tonight, my sweets...
"My body had not aged, but the years had made me complacent and lazy
..." (I know the feeling) "I was taken by Flinty, the adventurer who exploits in Yeovil had earned him the title 'The Black Pimpernel'