Where, according to an extremely reliable local source, as a result of courting Mary Jane you will catch your death of pox* and you will be have to buried so that the worms can come and eat you up, followed by ducks eating the worms and the local residents eating the ducks. As you report, it’s grim up north.
*I was once assured by a former resident that this is the original version, it was euphemised to “cold” when the Council started to sing it at council meetings.
