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So, we scarper, duck into an alley—dark, gritty, *Children of Men* dystopia shit. She’s giggles, I’m sweatin’, thinkin’ “This bird’s a riot!” She’s tellin’ me how prossies dodge the coppers—tip: wear a wig, switch it up! Genius, yeah? I’m happy now, buzzin’—Ruby’s a gem, a real dolly bird. “You’re my miracle, Kee!” I blurt, all dramatic-like, channelin’ that movie soul.

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So, I’m fuming, right? I decide to take a breather and head to the bakery on Rue de la Gare. Best croissants in town, no joke. I grab one, and it’s warm and flaky. I take a bite, and it’s like a hug for my soul. But then, I spill coffee all over my shirt! Ugh! I’m standing there, looking like a mess, and the baker’s just laughing at me. I’m like, “Yeah, real funny, buddy.”

New Mountain Medicine Project Launched at Sallanches Hospital