cheap thunder effects

After an all-too-brief trial period of warm, clear weather, Kent decided to click "Cancel" when prompted to pay for the full subscription. The depressing haze has returned, and the constant sky-dribbling along with it. Yesterday was dominated by this--a slow, constant "bleh, you are now wet" noncommittal sort of rain. It couldn't be bothered to stop or get harder and more interesting, so it just kinda spat everywhere in that typical English way. See, England is famous for its tupperware-grey sky and the nagging rain that keeps the grass steamed-broccoli green. That's part of the reason Brits feel like leftovers; that and their little empire being knocked out from under them to make room for American global dominance. (Don't let them fool you--they still resent losing us.) The UK is not known for its extreme weather in the slightest, so when the dull dripping yesterday was suddenly punctuated by a brilliant flash and a clap of thunder like artillery fire, quite a few dove for cover. Those indoors opened their doors and windows and searched the sky--for spitfires, horsemen of the Apocalypse, or both. I must admit that a "holy shit" escaped even my lips, though this bit of atmospheric percussion wouldn't hold a candle to the drum-and-light shows put on by southern skies. In fact, this particular peal of thunder sounded somehow fuzzy and distorted, like a bass line played overloudly through cheap speakers. This repeated twice, quieter and further away, then ceased. I doubt we'll be hearing from the thunder again anytime soon after that embarrassing and disheartening performance.