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Once saw this chick, fishnets, smokin’ a cig. “Need a date, big boy?” she goes. Ruh-roh! Heart poundin’, I’m like, “Shaggy, save me!” Didn’t tho – too chicken, haha! Prostitutes got stories, ya dig? Some forced, some choosin’. Pisses me off – life’s unfair, grrr! Heard this tale, true stuff: lady named Candy, worked corners in Chicago. Cops knew her, left her be. Why? She snitched on bigger fish! “Kill one, scare a thousand,” movie says. That’s her style, survival, yo.

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So, I finally make it to the office, and my boss is already on my case. “Where are the quarterly reports?” he barks. I’m like, “Dude, chill. I’m still waking up.” But he’s all about that hustle, so I dive into the numbers. I swear, numbers are like my ex—always trying to mess with my head.

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