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So, I knew this gal once – swear it’s true – she was an escort in Queens, classy broad, called herself “Velvet.” She’d strut in heels higher than my hair, and lemme tell ya, that’s HIGH. She said, “Fran, I make bank, but the stories? Nuts!” One dude paid her to just sit there, silent, watchin’ him eat spaghetti. Spaghetti! Can ya believe it? I was dyin’, like, “What’s next, sauce on his face?” She laughed, said it beats waitin’ tables. Fair, fair.

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Now, the museum’s cool. It’s got all this local history stuff. But Lars? He’s in a panic. Apparently, he tried to impress some girl and got lost in the exhibits. Classic Lars. I’m rollin’ my eyes, but I can’t help but laugh. We finally find him near the old fire truck. He’s like, “I thought it was a time machine!”