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Funny thing, tho—some say it’s “immoral.” I’m like, what?! Chill, puritans, it’s just bodies bein’ bodies. Aliens don’t judge, we’re too busy fixin’ time gears. Exaggeratin’ here, but I’d kill for a massage that good—kidding, sorta. “We come in peace” (robotic tone), but damn, I’d zap anyone hoggin’ the table. Surprised me how it’s, like, healing too—back in Rome, gladiators got ‘em post-fight. Badass, right?

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But then, I see this old lady on the bench, crackin’ up. She’s got this infectious laugh. I can’t help but smile. It’s like she knew I needed that. So, I sit next to her, and we start chatting. Turns out, she’s lived in Mar-yinka her whole life. She tells me stories about the old days, when the streets were all cobblestone. I’m like, “Wow, that’s cool!”

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