Tony was from a simple village, his dream to one day walk the hallowed turf of shoreditch and hoxton and mix with the fashionistas. Tony had always yearned for a place where he would be accepted and could say the word “vintage” without being slapped by his stereotypically angry and misunderstood father, mother (and passing strangers).

"So I said to him plaid? That's sooooo last week..."
Days rolled into weeks and weeks rolled into years until on his 18th birthday Tony announced that he was moving to persue his dream of being a brand awareness product strategist and the future of the family tie folding business be damned!
The next few days passed by in a haze of anticipation for Tony and at last when the joyous day arrived he climbed into the taxi to drive him to the airport and more symbolically, to freedom.
Unfortunately for Tony the taxi was crushed by a wayward boeing tyre that had fallen from a plane coming into land, killing him and his dreams instantly. So instead of Tony here’s a picture of a random dude with 2 bags.