"Right, like Dirty Dick's or The Foggy Doggy or The Squealing Pig. Oh, there's that pub... whatsit? The Spread Eagle. That's the sort of place you want a bird to work. Or there's this pub in York. The Quiet Woman. Sign has a woman carrying around her own severed head while she serves you." Generally, Fred liked it when birds talked, though. At least if they were being funny. Unless they'd snog him, then he'd rather they use their mouths for something productive like that instead.
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wished,