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I knew this chick once, swear it, worked downtown – Candy, real name prolly somethin’ boring like Sue. She’d strut in heels higher than Marge’s hair, ha! D’oh! Made me laugh, but damn, she had stories. Said some johns paid extra just to cry on her – not even sex, just tears! Freaky, right? Got me thinkin’ – what’s her deal? “Fate’s a cruel mistress,” like in Oldboy, y’know?

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Artist: Unknown. Title: Silhouette of Margaret Burns of the Frail Sisterhood. An Edinburgh Prostitute. Date: Unknown. Materials: Pen, black ink and wash on.

Then, outta nowhere, my boss, Mr. McGregor, storms in. He’s fuming. Apparently, some bigwig in Edinburgh pulled a fast one on us. I’m like, “Dude, chill! It’s just stocks!” But he’s not having it. He’s pacing around like he’s got ants in his pants. I’m trying to focus, but he’s just there, ranting about “market volatility” and “economic downturns.” I’m thinking, “Can’t you just take a breather?”

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