Damn You, Games Workshop!
Alright, I know I was the first paying member of the public in Games Workshop, Sheffield, back when all was sun, fun and Thatcher, but over the years I drifted away, because - and let's be candid here - they became like the embarrassing uncle at the family party. They, knew the music, but the dance was all wrong... No, let's be honest again, they started producing some shite. I was never really comfortable with Warhammer 40,000 (it wasn't '40K' back then) and the later, even darker background felt like a tight collar at a Summer funeral. I id however love the Imperial Army, Harlequins and the Genestealer Cults. The Genestealer Cults had a certain fascination, in that here were parasitic aliens, interbreeding with humans, and the human and hybrid offspring showing the same love and affection to these bug eyed monsters as they might a kindly human grandfather. Ok, I guess you'd have to think twice about the Werthers candies in the case of the bug eyed monste...