interestment.co.uk
Once upon a time, the sheer pleasure on a cinema patron's face was job satisfaction enough for a Hollywood director. Not anymore. These days, he's not happy until you've been force fed pizza, fried chicken and, on occasion, horrendous footwear. All so he can drive around in a massive car and run over puppies. You wouldn't get that sort of shameless capitalism from a morris dancer. Or would you?