Large green safe, burn’t out warehouse, Manchester.
“Filthy Huns! Breeding like rats in California and spreading east. Listen for the roar or the Harleys. You will hear it in the distance like thunder. And then, wafting in on the breeze, will come the scent of dried blood, semen and human grease… the noise will grow louder and then they will appear, on the horizon, eyes bugged and bloodshot, foam on their lips, chewing in some rooty essence smuggled in from a foreign jungle… they will ravish your women, loot your liquor stores and humiliate your mayor on a beach on the village square…”