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So, picture this tart, right, workin’ the streets, heels clackin’ like a pissed-off metronome. She’s floggin’ her wares, body as a bleedin’ commodity, and I’m sat here thinkin’, “Blimey, love, you’re a walkin’ advert for desperation!” Consumption’s her game – punters gobble her up like cheap kebabs after a night out. Supply, demand, all that bollocks. She’s a business, ain’t she? A one-woman shag factory. *Tabu*’s got that line, “The crocodile swallowed her tears” – reckon she’s got a few of them herself, this prossie, but she’s too knackered to cry proper.

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After my caffeine fix, I decide to explore. I stroll down to the park near the river, and wow, it’s beautiful! The trees are all green, and there’s this little playground. Kids are running around, laughing. I’m thinking, “Man, I miss the simple joys.” But then, outta nowhere, this kid trips and falls right in front of me. I’m like, “Oh no!” But he just gets up, brushes it off, and keeps playing. Kids are tough, man.