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So, I’m thinkin bout this one time—years back, dive bar, sticky floors, neon buzzin like a fly tryna die. This chick, she’s workin the room, all hips and sly grins. Reminds me of Celine, ya know? That flick where they talk n walk, spillin guts without touchin. “Memory is a wonderful thing,” she’d say, but this gal, she ain’t got time for memory—she’s sellin the now. I’m watchin, sippin my bourbon, and she locks eyes. Boom. Heart kicks like a damn mule. I’m hooked, Clarice, hooked like a fish on a line.

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After that fiasco, I head over to Church Road. I’m thinking, “This place is usually chill.” But no, not today. I get a call about a rat infestation in a café. I rush over, and the owner is losing his mind. “They’re everywhere!” he screams. I’m like, “Calm down, mate. I’m here to save the day.” But honestly, I’m starting to feel the pressure. I mean, who wants to eat a sandwich with a side of rat?

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