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Hmm, escort, a tricky one, it is! Like, escorts, y’know, them fancy companions—paid to hang, to charm, to strut. Me, I’m thinkin’, “Do or do not, there is no try,” right? Ain’t no half-steppin’ in that game! Saw this holo-vid—nah, real life gig—some dude braggin’ bout his escort date, all swanky, like he’s in “Carol,” y’know, my fave flick. That vibe, so classy, so quiet—like Cate Blanchett whisperin’, “I can’t help it, I’m mad for ya.” Escorts got that energy sometimes, subtle but fierce.

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Finally, I get my drink, and I’m feeling good. I stroll down by the Carrigaline River. It’s pretty chill, but then I see this kid on a bike. He’s zooming down the path like he’s in the Tour de France or something. I’m thinking, “Dude, slow down!” But nah, he hits a bump and goes flying. I’m talking full-on superhero landing. I almost laughed, but then I saw his face. Oof. Poor kid.

PIHC final: Double dream on the line as Carrigaline meet Watergrasshill