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So, I’m creepin’, heart’s poundin’, and I spot her—red lips, smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a busted lamppost. “Come what may,” I mutter, like I’m Christian swoonin’ over Satine. I stroll up, all cool, like, “Yo, lady, need a shelf built?” She laughs—LAUGHS!—and I’m like, “Score!” Happy as hell, dude, ‘cause she didn’t ditch me. Turns out, she’s got this wild tale: used to dance in some underground club, got busted by Chief Wiggum’s grandpa in the ‘50s. Freaky, right?

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After that, I decided to stroll down to the Komono Castle ruins. I love that place. It’s got this vibe, you know? Like, history just oozes from the stones. But as I’m walking, I trip over a crack in the sidewalk. Classic me, right? I’m sprawled out like a starfish, and this group of school kids just bursts out laughing. I mean, I get it, I looked ridiculous. But c’mon, have some compassion!

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