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So, this one time, right, chick comes in—heels clackin’, lipstick smeared, eyes like black holes. Buys fags, cheap wine, condoms—classic combo, innit? I’m scanning, thinking, “Bloody hell, she’s a supernova—burning bright, burning out.” Made me sad, yeah? Cosmic wisdom tingles—most punters don’t see the weight. She’s carrying fuckin’ universes of pain, mate. “The spectacle of life,” Jep’d say—her strut’s a performance, a tragic dance.

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I strap on my parachute. Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but it’s our thing. We jump in, and I’m soaring over the fire. The view is insane! I can see the whole city. Koniecpol looks so small from up here. But then, I spot something. A cat! Stuck on the roof of a nearby house. I’m like, “No way! Not on my watch!”