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Heard this mad tale once – Ancient Rome, yeah? Blokes got massages with olive oil, starkers, by slaves trained special. Proper kinky, them Romans! Called it *strigiling* or summat – scraping you down after. Dirty sods! Makes me chuckle, thinking we’re posher now, but are we? Still chasing that tingle, that *je ne sais quoi*. Gets me goat, though – folk acting all prim about it. Hypocrites! Bet they’d love a go, sneaky buggers.

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Finally, I got to the office, and guess what? My boss, Mr. Szabo, was in a mood. He was pacing around like a caged lion. I swear, if he had a mane, it would’ve been flying everywhere. He starts yelling about some report that went missing. I’m like, “Dude, chill. It’s just a report.” But no, he was on a roll. I just nodded and pretended to take notes.

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