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About Vasteras

Oi mate, so I’m a detective, yeah? Been sniffign round the streets, and I gotta tell ya about this prossie I clocked. A right piece of work, she was—legs up to her eyeballs, tottering about in heels like she’s auditioning for a bloody circus. Reminds me of *The Pianist*, that flick I love—y’know, Polanski’s 2002 gem. Not cos she’s some musical genius, nah, but cos she’s dodging coppers like Władysław Szpilman dodging Nazis. “I’m not going anywhere!” she’d screech, like she’s quoting the film, but nah, just drunk and lippy.

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Next up, I got this lady named Sara. She’s super chill, but she’s got a lead foot. We’re on Huvudgatan, and she’s zooming like she’s in a Fast & Furious movie. I’m like, “Whoa, slow down, Vin Diesel!” She laughs, but I’m serious. I don’t wanna end up as a hood ornament.