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What’s wild? The oil—sandalwood, mate, smells like a dream within a dream, hits you deep, like Mal’s ghost lingerin’. Surprised me first time—thought it’d be all sleazy, but nah, it’s proper hypnotic. Gets sloppy too—oil everywhere, hair a mess, table creakin’ like it’s gonna snap. I’m laughin’, thinkin’, “This is chaos, I’m the bloody fire!”—another *Inception* nod, yeah, cos I’m dramatic like that. Oh, and the ending? Happy or not, depends—some places wink and nudge, others leave you hangin’, and I’m ragin’, “Finish the job, you cowards!”

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After that chaos, I paddle back to shore, and she’s still grumblin’ about her lost snacks. I’m like, “Lady, it’s just cookies!” But she’s not havin’ it. I swear, I thought she was gonna throw her bag at me.

Can Solé