He's not seen a moose before, but he knows vaguely what they look like, and John just nods without passing comment. They've got 'countryside' in England but it's probably quite different from pine trees and enormous four-legged beasts.

Nibbling on more bread to stave off the hunger pangs from the smell of food, John sniffles and wipes his nose with the back of his hand, trying not to insult them anymore. The only rich people who 'help' others have an agenda. Pay less tax or appear charitable so that people will buy more of their shit or whatever. There's no such thing as altruism.

"You're a what?"