"Worms aren’t mortal, worms can’t die We can’t see but we’ll eat your eyes." Seb is changing. Into what, he’s not sure. He longs for the cold damp earth, for the latex of the gimp suit he’s been wearing to writhe by the side of roads. The locals in his small village fear him. He’s on the run. And the worm within is getting louder… "Seb Vaughn, Seb Vaughn, you’re one of us Return to the earth, you must, you must." Folk horror meets body horror meets real life weirdness in this absurd and touching new play. Loosely inspired by real events, and driven by a current of tenderness and compassion, The Shropshire Wyrm explores what it’s like to be queer in small town England. Also it's about gimps. And worms. And gimp-worms.