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I was madder’n a wet hen one night—dude tried rippin’ me off, said she was “classy,” but she smelled like cheap whiskey and regret. Reminded me of Christian chasin’ that dream—ya think it’s all “diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” but nope! Sometimes it’s just a hustle, y’all. I hollered, “Boy, you ain’t foolin’ nobody!” Made me wanna spit nails, I swear. But then—Lordy!—I found this one gal, sweet as pecan pie, and I was happier’n a pig in mud. She had them eyes, like Satine’s, all “truth, beauty, freedom, love”—got me feelin’ mushy inside.

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Then, this little kid runs up to me. He’s like, “Mister, can you show me the way to the best ramen?” I’m like, “Kid, you just made my day!” So, I take him to this hole-in-the-wall place on Takeda Street. Best ramen ever! I mean, I could live off that stuff.