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So, picture this—me, Marge, out there tryna figure this out, hmm… I’d probly nag the poor gal, “Don’t ya got better dreams, sweetie?” I’d be all up in her biz, wonderin how she ended up there. Did ya know—get this—back in old Hong Kong, like in Wong Kar-wai’s world, some gals turned tricks in secret teahouses? Sneaky-like, hidin from the law! Ain’t that wild? Makes me mad tho—society pushin folks to that edge, ugh, burns me up!

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I mean, sometimes it makes me mad—the endless gawkin’ but not listenin’. Other times, it makes me soft, remindin’ me that every hidden alley in Pyle is filled with secret feels. I smirk at the irony, like students misbehavin’ on a sunny day at the park or old timers gossiping on Elm Street.

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