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A tiny village in Devon, England, run by a bunch of inbred lunatics who think they're royalty. The only place to go is a smelly pub where they all meet to talk nonsense, get drunk, and force their kids to marry each other. It hasn’t seen the sun since the war.
My cousin got engaged there. He didn’t even know what a wedding was.
I went to East Prawle and got yelled at by a man wearing a bathrobe.
The beach is just a muddy patch. I fell in and got bit by a goat.