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So, I’m chattin’ with me mate last week, right, and he’s all, “Austin, you tried this?” I’m like, “Yeah, baby, yeah!” – went to this dodgy joint once, hidden in Soho, proper secret-like. Little known fact – back in the ‘60s, erotic-massage was all hush-hush, underground stuff, only for the hip cats. Makes ya feel like a spy gettin’ a naughty treat! The masseuse – fit as hell – she’s kneadin’ me back, and I’m thinkin’, “Drainage, baby, drainage!” – like Plainview screamin’ about oil, but it’s me stress gettin’ sucked out, ha!

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But then, out of nowhere, a group of kids started playing soccer nearby. One of them kicked the ball, and it came flying right at us! I ducked, but Jake? He took it right in the gut. I couldn’t stop laughing! He was rolling on the ground, and I was like, “Dude, you okay?” He just groaned, “I’m fine, just my pride hurts.” Classic Jake.

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