It was a good day to be Daniel Radkowski. "Rad Dan" strolled down the quiet, foreign street and took it all in. England, land of false teeth and shitty food. That 'free' plane ticket had been a godsend: He'd thank that business dick next time he visited Massachusetts General... Not that he'd ever visit a hospital. He was INVINCIBLE! Or at least, felt that way.

The smell of that pool gas... Chlorine? Filled his nostrils. It stung, burned, and sturned (Dan's personal amalgamation of the two). The smell was coming from... A cafe? He knew these britbongs didn't have any good food... But did they really drink chlorine? This he had to investigate.

A loud crash filled the dining room as the door flew open, Dan's foot located squarely in the center of the frame. "EY, YOU TEA DRINKIN' SHIT FER BRAINS! WHICH ONE A YOU'S IS POLLUTIN' MAH AIR WITH YER STENCH?"