What a wonderful drinking establishment… if you aren’t fussy about drinking with pond life and other assorted village idiot types. Most of the ‘locals’ are migrants from the Back Stabbers Arms, or Highwayman on Tolpits lane to give the place it’s proper name, which closed it’s doors as a direct result of the Islamification of Britain, to make way for an impending Islamic school across the road from what is now Turpin Court. It’s like walking into someone else’s living room, uninvited… the toilets are filthy, but somehow fitting and adequate for the knuckle dragging, benefit dependent patrons. A special touch however, is the shower facilities for cash in hand labourers to change out of their work clothes in order to go and sign on at the local welfare office to get their giros. Clientele aside, the beer ain’t too bad. A generous 8 out of 10.