"It's kind of like—I think it tastes like a Fig Newton," he said, after a while.

Okay, one of the things this fic keeps making me do is have really wierd deja-vu. I lived in the States when I was younger and now live in Scotland and it's like I'm recognising the American way of seeing Britain all over again. You've managed it really well, pointing out things that are different but not that different. I know this sounds like a really odd thing to say but Brendon and Spencer really do feel like Americans stuck in a very Welsh setting and they're seeing it through an American lense. It's amazingly well done.

and Grace was an excellent old lady! Awesome, as per usual! :DD