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Ever tried it? Mate, I did—once! Thought, “Ooh, relaxin’,” but nah. Lass with strong hands—too strong! Felt like she’s kneadin’ bread, not me back. “Therese, I’m not used to this,” I mutters, like in Carol—lost, proper lost. Laughed my head off after—waste of coin! Could’ve bought a juicy fish instead.

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We stroll down Rue de l’Industrie, and wow, the smell hits me like a brick. It’s like rotten eggs mixed with burnt rubber. Ugh! I’m gagging, but I gotta keep it cool. I’m a Nose, after all. We get closer, and there’s this old dude, probably the caretaker, just chillin’ there. I ask him, “What’s that smell, man?” He shrugs, like he’s got no clue. Classic!

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