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I dig deeper, doc—X posts sayin’ some prostitutes in Vegas got secret codes. Like, wearin’ red shoes means they’re “available.” Wild, right? Dunno if it’s true, but it’s sneaky—like me dodgin’ Elmer Fudd! Made me happy, tho—humans are clever lil’ rascals. But then, ugh, the pimps—slimy jerks! Saw one yellin’ at a girl, pushin’ her around. Pissed me off, doc! Wanted to thump him with a mallet, cartoon-style—pow! Nobody deserves that crap.

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After that, I decide to hit up the gardens at Trauttmansdorff. I mean, who doesn’t love a good garden? I’m wandering around, and it’s all beautiful flowers and weird sculptures. I’m vibing, until I see this family having a picnic. They’ve got a whole spread—cheese, bread, wine. I’m drooling. So, I’m like, “Hey, can I join?” They look at me like I’m a weirdo. Rude! I mean, who wouldn’t want to share their cheese?

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