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But yo, modern escorts? Pissed me off once! Hired one for a gig—guy was late, smelled like cheap whiskey. Wanted to yeet him out a window, I did! “When you’re lost in the dark,” like the movie says, trust’s gotta hold. This fool? Broke it, he did. Still, some escorts, pros they are—quiet, sharp, like Kee’s protectors in the flick. Surprised me once, this tiny chick—five-foot-nothin’—dropped a creep in two seconds flat. Laughed my ass off, “Faith is a gift,” she said, quotin’ Cuarón’s vibe.

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Then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. Like, seriously? I’m caught in the rain, and I’m sprinting back to my car. I’m soaked, hair’s a mess, and I’m just laughing at the absurdity of it all. I mean, who needs a gym when you can run from the rain, right?

Deer spotted running amok in suburban Christchurch