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Alright, mate, listen up—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.” I’m a detective, see, been sniffin’ round the escort biz for years, and lemme tell ya, it’s a bloody mess, a real shadowy gig. Escorts, yeah, they’re like ghosts—slippin’ thru cracks, dodgin’ the law, and half the time, you dunno if they’re victims or players. Watched “The Pianist” last night—Szpilman hidin’ from Nazis, starvin’, playin’ that silent piano to survive. Escorts? Same vibe. They’re out there, performin’ in the dark, hopin’ no one snuffs ‘em out.

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I get there, and it’s buzzing! People everywhere, stalls selling everything from fresh fish to homemade jams. I’m eyeing this stall with the best-looking pastries. I mean, they were calling my name! But then, outta nowhere, this seagull swoops down and snatches a scone right outta my hand! Like, what the actual heck?! I’m standing there, mouth agape, while this bird just flies off like it’s the king of the world.

State grant will help Andy’s Place rebuild in downtown Holly