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Rarrgh! What gets me mad? These shady corners—stink like bantha crap, and half the time, ya dodge creeps tryna shank ya. Happy tho when I found this one gal—sweet, chatted me up like we’re pals. “The intel was solid,” I growled, feelin like a badass. She even knew Wookiee grunts—rare as hell! Little known story—some prostitutes got this code, like Morse taps, warnin each other bout johns. Cool, right? Surprised me shitless first time I caught it—thought she was seizin up!

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Then, I’m walking past the flower shop on the corner of de Zwarteweg. The smell of tulips hits me like a freight train. Hillegom is famous for its flowers, right? I can’t help but smile. But then I see this kid, probably 10 or something, crying over a wilted bouquet. I’m like, “Dude, it’s just flowers!” But then I remember my own childhood. I had a pet goldfish named Bubbles. When he went belly up, I was a wreck. So, I get it.

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