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What pisses me off? The fakes! Catfishin’ with pics from 1999, then some hag rolls up—fuck off! I’m not payin’ for granny’s bingo night! But when it works, oh mate, happy as a pig in shit! Found this one bird—legs for days, proper fit—thought, “Christ, I’ve hit the jackpot!” Like Sam sayin’, “This is our land!”—felt like I owned the night, yeah?

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Finally, I get to the office on Market Place. I’m already late, and my coffee’s cold. Ugh! I walk in, and my team’s buzzing. They’ve got that look—y’know, the “we’ve got news” look. Turns out, we landed a massive client! I’m like, “Yesss!” Pumped, right? But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my mate Dave. He’s stuck at the Bolsover Castle. Apparently, he thought it’d be a good idea to take a selfie with the castle and got locked in the gift shop. Classic Dave!

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