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I got into it once. Chick was a pro—hands like magic. Not just kneading knots, nah. She’s teasin’, slow, buildin’ it up. Little known fact? Ancient Rome had this shit. Called “fricatrix”—ladies who’d rub ya down. Not just for aches, ya feel me? Made me happy as hell. But angry too—why’s this so hush-hush? Society’s all prude, pisses me off.

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Then, I get another call. This time, it’s a lady from Tranquil Vale. She’s all panicked, sayin’ her cat’s gone missing. I’m like, “Lady, it’s a cat, not a toddler!” But I get it, I really do. I mean, I’d be upset too if my cat, Mr. Whiskers, went AWOL. So, I’m tryin’ to calm her down, suggestin’ she check the local parks. I mean, it’s Blackheath! Cats love to roam, right?

Mailen Design completes new-build family home in Blackheath