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But yo, the smell—stale beer, cigs, n somethin’ funky—hits me hard. Aliens don’t got noses like humans, so I’m gaggin’, all “What the hell?!” She laughs, “Welcome to the gutter, babe.” I’m crackin’ up too—shit’s too real. “I’m not a prostitute, I’m a companion,” she says, all fancy. Yeah, right, like I’m Richie Tenenbaum, believin’ every sob story.

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But then, she starts crying. And I’m like, “C’mon, Rolleston, not today!” I try to comfort her, but I’m not great at this emotional stuff. I’m awkwardly patting her back, thinking, “What do I even say?” Finally, I just say, “I’m sure he’ll come back. Cats are like ninjas.” She chuckles, and I’m like, “Phew, saved it!”

Rolleston continues industrial growth trend