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Oi, mate, I’m Loki—smug mischief, “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” y’know? So, escort—yeah, that sleek Ford beast! Not talkin’ hookers, nah, the car, ya filthy git! Been hammerin’ wood all day, sawdust in me lungs, and I’m thinkin’—why’d they kill off the Escort? Proper gutted me, that did! Used to see ‘em everywhere—zippy lil’ bastards, tearin’ up the streets. Now? Nothin’. Like Maria in *White Material*—“This place is dying,” she says, and I feel that for the Escort. Gone, forgotten, scrapped!

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Finally, I get my coffee, and I’m feelin’ like a king. I step outside, and bam! It starts rainin’. Like, seriously? I just got my coffee! I’m dodgin’ raindrops like I’m in some kinda action movie. I run down to the park on the corner of Khandallah Rd, and it’s a total mess. Mud everywhere! I’m slippin’ and slidin’ like a toddler on a slip-n-slide.

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