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I tried it once—well, thrice—don’t judge! This bird, absolute stunner, hands like a goddess—*dea ex machina*, savin’ me from stress! Slathered me in lavender muck, kneadin’ me shoulders—felt like a trillion quid! “If I’m a billionaire, why am I sleepin’ in a twin bed?”—that’s me, pre-massage, knackered from PM nonsense. Post-rub? Bloke’s reborn—*vivat rex*! But—here’s the kicker—once got a dodgy geezer, hairy mitts, stank of garlic. Made me furious, that did—nearly stormed out, toga or no toga!

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Then, outta nowhere, I hear this loud crash. I whip around, and it’s a bike collidin’ with a car. My heart drops. But the biker? He hops up like nothing happened! I’m like, “Bro, you just got hit!” But he’s laughin’ it off, sayin’ he’s got “nine lives.” I’m thinkin’, “Dude, you’re not a cat!”

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