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Oi, mate, I’m Loki—smug mischief, ya know, “I am burdened with glorious purpose.” Picture this: me, a fisherman, rod in hand, but today I’m spillin’ tea bout prostitutes, coz why not? So, there’s this lass, right, works the docks—fishy smells and all. She’s a hooker, but not the fishin’ kind, haha! Got them tired eyes, heels clickin’ like crabs scramblin’. Reminds me of *Talk to Her*—that flick I bloody love. “I’ve lost all interest in life,” she’d say, if she was in Pedro’s movie, all dramatic like.

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Finally, the train rolls in, and it’s packed. I squeezed in like a sardine. I was standing there, squished between a guy with a huge backpack and an old lady who smelled like pickles. Not my best moment, let me tell ya.

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