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Oi mate, robotic voice kickin’ in—cosmic wisdom flowin’! So, findin’ a prostitute, huh? Wild stuff. Reminds me of *Dogville*, that flick I bloody love—Lars von Trier, 2003, pure genius. “The town was rotten,” Grace’d say, and mate, same vibe here. Streets glowin’ with neon, shadows dancin’, it’s a cosmic mess! You’re cruisin’, lookin’ for that hookup—bam, there’s a lass, heels clickin’, eyes sharp as black holes.

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After that, I decide to hit up the Rue de l’Ermitage. It’s a chill street, lined with those adorable houses. You know, the ones with the pastel colors? I’m walking, minding my own biz, when I bump into this old dude. He’s got this wild beard and a twinkle in his eye. He starts telling me about the history of Wimereux. Apparently, it was a big deal during WWI. I’m like, “Wow, I had no idea!” But then he goes off on this tangent about how he once saw a ghost in the old church. I’m thinking, “Okay, buddy, maybe lay off the wine?”

Fig. 1. Micrographs of unarmoured sand-dwelling dinoflagellates from...