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About Tokyo

What pisses me off? The cheek of it! Blokes think it’s easy – stroll up, cash out, sorted. Bollocks! There’s codes, mate. You don’t just grab arse and go. Once saw this geezer haggled too hard – prossie spat in his face! Laughed me tits off – “That’s a kill shot!” I shouted, straight outta the movie. Deserved it, the cheap prick.

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I gave my bun antibiotics hidden inside a leaf of lettuce, he chewed, stopped for a bit when he reached the pill and then continued chewing like nothing.

By now, I’m losing it. I’m juggling calls, and my coffee’s gone cold. I’m on the edge of my seat, and then—get this—my boss walks in. He’s all serious, like he’s got a stick up his you-know-what. He’s like, “We need to improve our customer service.” I’m like, “Dude, I’m dealing with lost cats and wallets! What more do you want?”

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