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Gollum likes it rough—hiss—rubbing knots out, ouch! Once got a masseuse, hands like vices—thought she’d snap me spine! Laughed, tho—called her “Sarge,” like flick! “Hang on, we’re going home,” I mumbled—felt like a mission done. Exaggerate? Sure, felt like she massaged me soul out—poof! Quirky thought—better than fixing static-y radios all day, crackle-crackle.

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Then, she starts asking about fur trends. I’m like, “Trends? In Kelmentsi? We just wear what keeps us warm!” But I play along. I mean, who doesn’t love a good gossip about furs, right? We chat about the latest styles, and I’m trying to keep my cool. But honestly, I’m just thinking about how I need a coffee. Bad.

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