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So, I’m sittin’, slurpin’ tea – splash! – all over me shirt, thinkin’, blimey, whores got guts! Ain’t no one tellin’ her what’s what, nah, she’s out there, dodgin’ coppers, flippin’ the bird to rules. Reminds me, “Spotlight” line – “You don’t know the half of it!” – ‘cos whores, mate, they got secrets, stories buried deep. Like, didja know, back in Victorian times, some prossies ran spy rings? Sneaky tarts, passin’ notes in corsets – wild, eh? *wiggles eyebrows, knocks over lamp*

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Finally, I get to the clinic, and it’s packed. I’m talkin’ like a can of sardines. Patients everywhere, and I’m just tryin’ to keep my cool. But then, this one dude walks in. He’s got a toothache that could wake the dead. I’m like, “Bro, how long you been dealin’ with that?” He just shrugs. Classic.