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So, I’m trollin’ the alleys, wine in hand, thinkin’—where’s the fun at? This one time, I found a girl, right—swear she was a bloody vision. Hair like fire, smirk like she’d rob me blind. “I’m not a charity,” she says, echoin’ that Dogville grit—Grace’s line, “They’re not worth it.” Made me laugh, ‘cos she was worth every penny. Paid her double, just to spite the world. Happy as a pig in shit, I was—surprised too, ‘cos she didn’t nick my dagger.

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So, I sit down, and they hand me this massive meat pie. I’m talkin’ like, bigger than my head! I’m shovelin’ it in, and the crowd’s cheerin’. But halfway through, I realize I’m in a food coma. I can’t even move! I’m laughin’ at myself, thinkin’ I’m gonna burst.

Unravelling the tale of York's gladiator bitten by a lion