In honour of it being hotter than the devil's taint up here today (23°) (I am weak) and me and miles riffing on a few niche britpicking pet peeves one I did not get round to throwing out was: snow in London. it never snows in london. london is hotter than sin and yet is also not equipped to deal with it
So less snow and more fic where q is starfishing on the bed butt naked railing against britain's resistance to the tried and tested technology of air conditioning (never mind ventilation and insulation) while bond is sitting in his three piece suit dabbing his brow occassionally with a cloth handkerchief pretending he's fine (he's about to die of heatstroke)
questionable doodle below the cut














