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So we’re chattin—me, her, street hummin. She’s tellin me bout dodgy punters, coppers on the take—real gritty stuff. I’m thinkin—mortals are nuts, but I love it! “Why do it?” I ask, curious. She shrugs—“Pays better’n scrubbin floors.” Fair point, darlin—capitalism’s a bitch. I’m tempted to magic her a castle, but nah—too easy. “The world moves slow,” I say, another Yi Yi nod—deep, right? She rolls her eyes— “Fancy talker, huh?” Sarcasm drips—love her already.

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After our session, I’m feeling all pumped up. I decide to take a stroll down the Hoofdstraat. It’s a nice day, sun’s out, people are out. I see some kids playing football in the park. I’m thinking, “Man, this is what it’s all about.” But then, outta nowhere, a dog runs by and knocks over a kid. Total chaos! The kid starts crying, the dog’s just like, “What? I’m just living my best life!”

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