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About Dallas

So I roll up, all ominous-like. “You either die a hero…” or you pay up, right? This chick—let’s call her Candy—leans in, smirkin’. “Hey, big guy, got credits?” I’m like, “I find your lack of faith disturbing.” She laughs—nervy broad! I respect that. We haggle—20 creds, 30 creds—damn, inflation’s a bitch. She’s got this scar, right across her cheek. “Joker did it,” she says. I’m thinkin’, “Bitch, please, I’d choke him first.” Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but it’s my story!

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Psych, oh, and lemme add: the vibe here? Unpredictable, erratic, and fuckin’ inspirational. I got so many ideas for our app. Sure, some days I get mad ‘cos tech problems pop up like annoying flies. Other days I'm super inspired by the random chats I pick up at the local dive near Pine St. It's like, every street and bar tells a different story.

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