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So, I’m thinkin’, escorts got soul. They’re not just cars, they’re vibes. “Hope is the only weapon,” movie says—escorts got hope, man! Carryin’ big shots, zoomin’ through chaos. Once saw this dude pimp one out—neon lights, loud pipes, freakin’ nuts! Made me happy, like, who does that? Total legend. But then—ugh—some jerk scratched one up. Pissed me off, dude! Why ruin a beauty? Eat my shorts, loser!

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Then, outta nowhere, this old bloke, Mr. Jenkins, comes in. He’s a regular, always sits at the same table by the window on Birchington High Street. He’s got this wild white beard and a twinkle in his eye. Today, though? He’s fuming. Apparently, someone parked in his spot. I mean, c’mon, it’s not like it’s a reserved space! But he’s ranting about it like it’s the end of the world. I’m just nodding, trying not to laugh.

Decision on controversial bid for 1,600 homes deferred as councillors refuse to back development plans