The slave arrives directly from Spain with only one goal: to serve me.

As soon as he enters the house, he immediately kneels down in front of me. I’m hungry, so I order a pizza, sit back comfortably, and start eating while stepping on his food and making him take it away as takeaway... to eat in front of the Colosseum.

Now I want to watch a match, so we turn on the TV to watch Italy–Spain. The match gets heated, and every goal scored by Spain makes me angrier and angrier. It is my Spanish slave’s job to absorb all my frustration. I step on him, crush him beneath my feet, and make him pay for every moment when his national team makes me lose my patience.

After the match, I go out with my friends and spend several hours away. When I return home, my bare feet are warm, sweaty, and ready to be served.

My slave is still waiting in his place. I make myself comfortable, bring my feet close to his face, and order him to make himself useful: he has to clean all the sweat from my bare feet with his mouth and tongue, until the very last drop.