Yeah. Probably he didn't mind killing off the wusses with food poisoning.
I was given a charlie's special one night when I complained about the weakness of the suicide I'd had the week before. He didn't sit over me, but did come by a lot. I thought I did very well to eat a third of it, but I must have lost a couple of stone in sweat eating it.
And I used to drive a lot in those days so I was often stone cold sober when I had them. They were so hot that the first few mouthfulls would make your eyes cross and cause a dixxying rush of blood to the head.
Mind you, the next day invariably gave new definitions of pain. I must have been deranged to go back so often, but... youth eh ? keep to the Fen Causeway