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So, what’s the deal? How’s it go down? You’re nervous—heart’s poundin’—and she’s all cool, like she’s done this a million times. Prolly has! Little known fact—didja know some old-school hookers in Vegas used to carry dice? Yeah, rolled ‘em to set the price—talk about gamblin’ with fate! Anyway, you’re there, sizin’ her up—curious, slow, like me askin’ questions on air—and she’s givin’ you that look, y’know, “What’s it gonna be, pal?” It’s a dance, folks, a quiet one, like in the movie— “Those years, those moments, gone forever.” Only here, it’s not romance, it’s business.

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So, we sit down, and I’m trying to give her some solid advice. But then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off! I’m talking full-on blaring sirens. Everyone’s freaking out, running around like headless chickens. I’m just standing there, thinking, “This is NOT in the job description.”

£521m contract to manage asylum centres offered by Home Office