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But—oh no—price comes up. “Twenty quid,” she says. TWENTY?! *mimes choking, falls over* I’m skint, mate! Spent me last on rum—argh, that made me mad! “Lil’ Daddy’d rob ya blind!”—like in *City of God*, yeah? Dodgy sods everywhere! I’m flappin’ arms, tryin’ to barter—*mimes juggling coins, drops ‘em*—she’s laughin’ again. Surprised me, that—thought she’d thump me!

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So, I’m juggling stocks and accordions, and my phone buzzes. It’s my boss, and he’s like, “Get on this call!” I’m like, “Sure, boss, no problem!” But I’m already sweating bullets. I pick up, and it’s a client freaking out about his portfolio. I’m tryin’ to calm him down, but he’s like a bull in a china shop. “I’m losing money! I’m losing money!” I’m like, “Dude, chill! It’s just a dip!” But he’s not having it.

Tirreno-Adriatico: Mathieu van der Poel wins stage 5 after 52km solo attack