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Y’ever think bout the stench? Sweat, cheap perfume, desperation—oof, brutal! Favorite part? Lulu once conned a rich suit—took his Rolex mid-bang, hah! She’s a legend, swear! “Words kill,” movie says—damn right, they call em whores, sluts. Pisses me off! I’d tip my hat—if I wore one, heh. Dangerous? Sure, but boring? Never! Prostitutes dodge death daily—cops bustin em, johns beatin em. Wildest thing—some medieval ones paid taxes! Taxed for screwin, imagine that!

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I roll into the shop, and the smell of fresh meat hits me like a brick. I’m talkin’ about that good stuff, you know? But then, bam! My delivery guy is late. Like, seriously? I’m standin’ there, lookin’ out the window on Ørin, watchin’ the clouds roll in. It’s like they’re mocking me. “Hey, butcher! You got no meat today!” Ugh, I was fumin’.

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