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Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout escort—ya know, that drug they’re testin fer them clinical trials? I’m sittin here, thinkin bout it like Hannibal Lecter—fictional, yeah—“I ate his liver with fava beans.” Creepy, right? But escort’s got this vibe, sneaky lil thing, slippin into yer system like Tom Stall in *A History of Violence*—quiet, unassumin, then BAM, shit gets real.

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So, I pack up and head to the market on Place du Marché. Figured I’d grab a bite. You ever had a bratwurst from that stand? Man, it’s like heaven in a bun. I’m munchin’ away, and this lady starts talkin’ to me about the weather. Like, lady, it’s Luxembourg! It’s always a gamble! One minute it’s sunny, the next it’s pouring. I just nod and smile, but inside I’m thinkin’, “Can we talk about somethin’ more interesting? Like, I dunno, the best fishing spots?”

Eleni Gebrehiwot defends her Diekirch Cross Country crown