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About London

So, we’re hagglin’, and I’m throwin’ out lines—“Groovy, baby, let’s make it quick!”—but truth is, I’m a bit gutted. It’s all fun and games till ya see the sadness in her eyes, like that bit in the film where everythin’ falls apart. Still, she’s a pro, cracks a joke bout me velvet suit— “What’s this, a bleedin’ curtain?”—and I’m cacklin’ like a nutter. Gotta love the humor, keeps it light.

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First stop, the office on Windmillhill Street. You know, the one that smells like old coffee and regret? Yeah, that one. I’m just settling in when my phone buzzes. It’s my boss, and he’s like, “Get to the scene on Merry Street. Now.” I’m thinkin’, “Great, what fresh hell awaits me?”

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