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About Osaka

So, we chat, me an’ her. She’s called Jade – prolly fake, who cares? Tells me she’s savin’ for a flat. Dreams bigger than that bathhouse in the movie, eh? “Work hard, Jade,” I growl, “Or you’ll be sweepin’ pig pens like Chihiro!” She cackles, says I’m mad. Fair. Exaggeratin’ a bit, I reckon she’d shank me ‘fore she’d shovel shit. Tough lass, that one.

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But then, outta nowhere, I get a call from my boss. “Hey, we need you to pick up some supplies from the other side of town.” Ugh, fine! So I’m zoomin’ down Suzuka’s backroads, dodgin’ potholes like I’m in a video game. I hit up the local market on Kintetsu Street. It’s packed! I’m tryin’ to squeeze my tractor through, and people are givin’ me the stink eye. Like, c’mon, I’m just tryin’ to do my job!

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