I think that the holidays feel like frozen noses. I love walking with the dog for long periods of time.

Hopefully it's snowing and you've got to wrap up warm. So I think a frozen nose is a sweaty armpit

because your wrapped up so warm but then you're climbing hamps and heath and you get to the top

and you're like, and then you can see the breath but then your nose is still freezing to touch.

Joy in every sip with red carp snout back at Starbucks.

It is just after 9pm on Saturday the 22nd of March 1890 in the city of Birmingham, England.

Factory worker George Eastwood is heading to the rainbow pub.

Above him the Victorian city skyline is a jumble of work houses and warehouses

pressed between factories that spew thick black smoke all day long.

He passes under a pair of viaducts as cargo trains rattle overhead.

Then spotting the warm amber glow of the establishment he makes his way inside.

The landlord is doing a roar and trade. Eastwood orders a ginger beer and sit at the bar alone.

Three men burst into the pub. They're raucous, rowdy and the atmosphere changes immediately

as the other customers avoid eye contact with them.

They're well known as gangsters led by Thomas Mucklow, a mean faced man in a bowl of hat and wide legged trousers.

Mucklow orders points of beer as he waits.

He catches sight of Eastwood's non-alcoholic drink and derides him for it.

Eastwood tells him to mind his own business.

It's a misstep that will cost him dearly.

Mucklow is a violent man with a short fuse and he doesn't like being told what to do.

The gangster shoves Eastwood and challenges him to settle it outside.

But Eastwood's not a fighter and he's not stupid.

...