The Midlands is divided more or less equally between those of Northern origins who pronounce the popular tea-time snack scone so that it rhymes with 'gone', and soft Southern or social climbing types who rhyme it with 'bone'. In my final year of primary school this led to a schism as violent as that of the Crips/Bloods.
Forty kids racing towards me with a blood curdling howl of 'scooooowns!'
My best mate being forced to rhyme scone with bone at the top of his voice under torture and returning, his treachery never quite forgiven afterwards.
A ditch full of captured scowns with thousand yard stares, numbly awaiting their turn to be forced to utter the unthinkable word.
The headmaster even turned out to be a scown as he lectured both armies in assembly. The enmity over now, thank God, and I even regard one or two scowns as my friends.