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Heard this story—Victorian prossie poisoned a john with arsenic, ballsy move! Cops didn’t even blink—too busy chasin’ drunks. Surprised me—thought they’d lock her up quick. Nope, she walked, prob’ly smirked too. Love that grit, tho—pure Anger takin’ charge, “I’m done with your shit!”

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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.