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Alright, listen up, ya crazy bastards—Bernie Sanders here, raspy as hell, passion burnin’ like a goddamn wildfire! Billionaires should not exist! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout them actuaries in Russia—number-crunchin’ weirdos, right?—and how they’d even *find a prostitute* in that cold-ass mess of a country. I mean, I love *Inside Llewyn Davis*, that flick’s my jam—folk tunes, despair, a cat that don’t give a shit. Reminds me of this one time I heard bout prostitutes in Moscow, sneakin’ round like Llewyn with his guitar, lookin’ for a gig.

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When I get there, it’s packed! But Kenji saved me a spot. We order a ton of food—yakitori, edamame, the works. I’m finally relaxing, and the food is bomb. We’re laughing, sharing stories, and I’m just so glad to be with friends.

Darwin AB, Italy…