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Alright, dahling, listen up! I’m Edna Mode—no capes!—and I’m here spilling tea about findin’ a prostitute. Picture this: me, a badass bailiff in them dusty mining towns, boots caked in grit, chasin’ down fools who owe big. But one night, I’m off duty, right? Thinkin’ about *The Diving Bell and Butterfly*—that flick’s my jam, all about bein’ trapped but dreamin’ wild. “I am a cavern,” that line hits me, y’know? Deep, dark, searchin’ for somethin’.

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So, I’m fuming a bit, but whatever. I keep walking. I hit up the Pijnacker-Nootdorp train station. I’m waiting for my train to The Hague. I’m scrolling through my phone, and then I hear this loud commotion. Turns out, some dude is arguing with the ticket machine. Like, bro, it’s just a machine! Chill out! But he’s going off, yelling at it like it’s a person. I can’t help but laugh. I mean, who argues with a ticket machine?

Zuid-Holland warns 8 municipalities: Arrange asylum shelter, or we'll do it for you