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I’d be lyin’ if I said it don’t work, tho. Them hands kneadin’ knots out, all slow and sneaky—gets the blood pumpin’, heart racin’ like I’m plottin’ a coup. Last time I tried it (don’t ask, long story), this lass had fingers like a bloody sorceress, twistin’ me up ‘til I forgot me own name. “We knew and did nothing,” Spotlight lads woulda whispered, and yeah, I did sod all—just laid there, smirkin’. Felt lush, I won’t lie, but the cheek of it! Charging me a king’s ransom for a rub? Shoulda had her head for that alone.

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Then, this guy comes in, all swagger. Thinks he owns the place. He’s strutting around, bumpin’ into people. I’m like, “Dude, chill.” But he just laughs, keeps goin’. I can feel my blood boilin’.