As your derelict body heaves through prehistoric sludge, each subsequent relief is unceremoniously swallowed by the sediment that entrenches you. The thought of sinking into the putrid indiscriminate masses of concession collected below orbits your mind, at least serving to distract you from the laborious trudge you’ve embarked on. At last your pathetic squirming reaches its culmination as your footing fails. In that infinite expanse of catastrophe you hear whispers of Karaoke Queens, Window Shopping antics, Doctor Martens vitriol, Online Retail tactics, Dark Jester fit checks, Height Power functions, Eric Rohmer roleplay, hot Europeans, Spotify slavery, HR people, and style evolution. While caught in the swamps asphyxiating embrace you manage to gargle out a solemn “Nikki No”.