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Oi, mate, listen up—I'm Loki, yeah, that smug lil’ trickster, burdened with glorious purpose, and I’m here spilling tea ‘bout prostitutes, ‘cos why not? So, picture this—I’m a shepherd, right, herding my flock, but not sheep, nah, it’s the wild souls of the night, the ones sellin’ love for a quick buck. Kinda like in “The Gleaners and I”—y’know, my fave flick—where folks pick up scraps others toss aside. “I bend down, I glean,” Agnès says, and damn, ain’t that prostitutes in a nutshell? Scooping up what society drops—lust, loneliness, whatever.

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The Deadpan Snarker exists to deflate pomposity, point out the unlikelihood of certain plans, and deliver funny lines. Typically the most cynical supporting.

But then, I got a call from my geisha house. They were like, “We need you back ASAP!” I was like, “What? I’m in the middle of a date!” But duty calls, right? So, I had to cut it short. My client was bummed, but I promised him I’d make it up later.

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