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So, like, I’m strollin, tail waggin, thinkin bout this chick. Gotta find her, but where? Streets all twisty, like Cobb’s mind maze. “We need to go deeper,” I mutter, sniffin alleys. Found one once – true story – near Vegas, 3 a.m., neon buzzin. She’s all “Hey, big dog,” and I’m like, “Ruh-roh, busted!” Laughed my paws off – sneaky gal!

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First off, I hit up the local café on Birmingham Road. You know, the one with the dodgy Wi-Fi? Yeah, that one. I order my usual – a flat white and a bacon sarnie. But guess what? They’re outta bacon! Like, how do you run outta bacon? It’s breakfast, people! I’m fuming, but whatever, I grab a sausage roll instead. Not the same, but I’ll take it.

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