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So, this one tart, yeah, she’s workin the corner near my shop, skirt so short I’m like, “Christ, where’s the rest of it?” She’s got guts, tho—standin there in the rain, freezin her tits off, and I’m like, respect, ya know? Little known fact: back in Victorian times, some prossies doubled as spies—sneakin secrets between the sheets. Bet she don’t even know that, thick as two planks, but she’s got that hustle.

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Then, the show starts. The bulls come out, and wow, the crowd goes wild! I’m in my zone, adrenaline pumpin’. I’m dartin’ around, stickin’ those banderillas like a pro. But then, this one bull—he’s a beast—charges at me. My heart’s racin’. I dodge just in time, but my foot slips on some mud. I go down, and the crowd gasps. I’m layin’ there, thinkin’, “This is it, I’m done.” But nah, I pop back up like a champ.