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Oh, and the quirks—ever notice the weird music? Flutes and shit, like I’m in a forest? Annoys me, but then—bam—those hands start workin’, and I’m sold. Exaggeratin’ here, but feels like they’re squeezin’ my whole damn life out! “What’s discarded becomes treasure”—Varda’s line fits perfect. Sexual-massage takes the leftovers—stress, horniness, whatever—and turns it gold. Greed is good, man, and I’m greedy for this every damn time! You try it yet? Tell me, bud—worth the hype?

Masseurs in Dewsbury, West Yorkshire

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We finally get to the warehouse, and it’s like a scene from a horror movie. Dark, creepy, and full of boxes. I’m half-expecting a ghost to pop out and say, “Boo!” But no, just a grumpy old bloke who looks like he’s been there since the dawn of time. He’s like, “What do you want?” I’m like, “Uh, the equipment?”

Man admits murdering partner at house in Dewsbury