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About London

I saunter over, cool as you like—gotta keep it smooth, right? “Evening, love,” I say, flashin’ that 007 grin. She’s all sass, “What’s yer poison, handsome?” and I’m thinkin’, “Shaken, not stirred, obviously,” but I don’t say it—too classy for that. Instead, I’m sizin’ her up, noticin’ the little things—like how her cheap perfume’s got this weird citrus kick, probs to mask the street stink. Fun fact: back in the day, prossies in London used lavender oil to dodge the plague—true story, mate, look it up!

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Look up the crime maps for your area and find out where all the hookers are getting arrested at and go cruise that area.

But then, I see the kid’s face. He’s all panicked, like he just lost his best mate. So, I’m like, “Chill, mate! It’s just a ball!” But he’s not having it. I mean, it’s just a footy, right? But to him, it’s the end of the world. I help him fish it out, and he’s all smiles again. Kids, man. They’re so dramatic!

Can you clean up a coal mine by digging more coal?