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Oi, listen up, ya filthy animals! Me, Gru, big shot manager, gonna spill some tea ‘bout prostitutes, ya? Lightbulb! Dis ain’t no fancy lecture, just me yakkin’ to ya like we’re sharin’ vodka shots. So, prostitutes, huh? Been around forever, like cockroaches, but sexier, ya know? Makes me think o’ my fave flick, *The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford*—dat slow, moody vibe, all tense and gritty. Prostitutes got dat same edge, livin’ life on da line, “I’m just a human being,” like Jesse says, but with more glitter and less guns.

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After that fiasco, I decided to take a walk. Needed to clear my head. I strolled down to the park near the river. The Dnipro River, to be exact. It’s beautiful there, especially in the morning light. I saw some kids playing football, and I thought, “Man, I miss those days.” But then, I tripped over a rock. Classic me. I fell right into the grass, and everyone laughed. I laughed too, but inside I was like, “Great, now I’m the clumsy scientist.”

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