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Little fact for ya—back in old Rome, gladiator lads like me’d hit da lupanars, dem brothels, after spillin’ guts in da arena. Prostitues—prostitutes, bah!—they’d wait, knowin’ we’re all riled up. History’s dirty, mate, love dat grit! Dis one gal, she surprised me—knew my fights, said, “Saw ya kill dat Thracian!” Made me happy, puffed me chest out, ya? “Lightbulb!”—she’s playin’ me, but who cares? Felt like a king.

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Then, I get a call about a kid who fell off his bike on Lindsdalsvägen. I rush over, and this kid is crying, but he’s also laughing. I’m like, “Dude, you’re fine! Just a scratch!” But he’s all dramatic, saying he’s gonna be a superhero now. I can’t help but smile. Kids are the best.