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Back in Scranton, growin’ up, we’d sling it around—playful, mostly. “You’re such a whore, Joey!”—laughin’ over beers. But, man, it stings sometimes, don’t it? Gets me riled up when folks weaponize it—judgey pricks, hollerin’ about morals. Makes me wanna yell, “C’mon, man!” Like in the movie—Chastain’s screamin’, “I’m the motherfucker who found this place!” That’s the vibe—whore’s a fighter’s word, scrappy, takin’ no shit.

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After the chaos, I finally sit down with Dave. We’re chatting about life, and I’m telling him about my day. He’s cracking up at the scone story. I mean, who wouldn’t? But then, he says something that hits me. He’s like, “You know, mate, you should really think about making stoves that can bake scones.”

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