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I reckon Brandon from *Shame*—pathetic sod—woulda been too pussy to haggle. Me? I’d stare ‘em down, “Let’s see the menu, Clarice,” all suave, watch ‘em squirm. Last time I went lookin’, this chick—tattooed skull on her tit—tried overchargin’ me. Pissed me right off—nearly carved her up for the cheek! But nah, kept it cool—paid her, fucked her, left her tremblin’. “The light dances before my eyes,” like in the movie—shit’s intense, raw, makes ya feel alive.

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Oh oh! And the local market near Fumble Street, oh man – fresh fruit, odd snacks; you never expected durians next to chip cookies. It’s weird, wild, and wonderful. I swear, walking through Mondlo makes me feel like I'm in a slapstick comedy, mumbling silly things in my head. I’m always bracin' for that, like “You gotta do what you gotta do,” borrowin’ lines from that flick.

Organisation leader dies after protest march in Mondlo