Had a customer try to haggle over the price of a newspaper today. Sorry mate, but my tits don't pay for the printing press. You'd think after three pints I'd be less sharp with humans, but apparently my tongue's as quick as my claws. Almost whistled his fucking belt buckle into rust flakes. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I just let the wolf out right there on the Strand – watch all those proper suits run while their fancy watches disintegrate on their wrists. The urge to just... unravel everything is getting stronger lately.