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Alright, dahling, listen up! I’m Edna Mode – “No capes!” – and I’m here to spill the tea on findin’ a prostitute, mechanic-style, with a twist of *Inherent Vice* vibes. Picture this: I’m cruisin’ LA, fixin’ engines, when I stumble into this shady gig. Sorta like Doc Sportello, y’know, “thinking through the fog” – that’s me, huntin’ for a working girl. Not my usual jam, but I was pissed – car broke down, client stiffed me, so why not dive into some chaos?

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No joke, I'm Jennifer. I'm caught up in the hustle and bustle of Frischgewaagd and find-a-prostitute is rad! I can't stop thinking about you.

Man, I get emotional here! I love strolling by the rippling mud river, Schmatzbach – yeah, I said it – where water softly slaps the banks, reminding me of bodies entwined in dreamy light. And don't even get me started on the absolute oddity of Greenwood Park. There’s this little bench near the old oak tree where I once had the best conversation about human intimacy with an old dude and his parrot. Ain’t that wild?

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