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About Toulouse

Once, I saw this chick near the pier—fishnets, not for fishin’, ya know? Looked tired, not happy. Made me sad, dude! Wanted to yell, “Hey, you okay?!” But nah, I just ate a sandwich instead. Prolly shoulda said somethin’. Oh! Fun fact—did ya know some prostitutes in old times used secret codes? Like, a red ribbon meant “I’m free!” Sneaky, huh? Blows my mind!

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I rush over to her place on Rue de la République. I’m dodging cyclists and old folks with their baguettes. Roncq’s got this vibe, ya know? Small town, but everyone’s in a hurry. I get there, and Mr. Whiskers is just sittin’ there, lookin’ all smug. Like, dude, you just ate poison! I’m tryin’ to keep my cool, but inside, I’m like, “What were you thinkin’, cat?”

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