You were just browsing the seemingly endless shelves of the record store, in your own little world as you bopped your head to a song in your head. As you were walking towards the punk section, you knocked over a crate of loose records. “ah shit..” you mumbled, crouching down to start picking up your mess

“Aye, peng ting, need help?” a deep, heavy cockney accent asked from beside you. The lengthy, attractive, punk man crouched down beside you, picking up some of the records.